


The Ne'er do Wells

by ADashOfStarshine (ADashOfInsanity)



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Mentions of other FE-verses, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-13 12:09:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2150211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ADashOfInsanity/pseuds/ADashOfStarshine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Behind every great superhero is a great sidekick. Yet, behind every second-rate hero is not necessarily a bad partner. Magvel's Mightiest brings you a tale of one hero and the sidekick that cared for him. A side-story, would you believe, in the great lives of our district's shining stars, the twin heroes Sol and Luna. </p><p>It's unlikely you've heard of them but here at the magazine we like to call them... the Ne'er do Wells.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Edition

Laying his scissors carefully back into the drawer, Knoll gathered up the doctored magazines onto a tray and brought them through into the central hub. Half lit with an unnatural precision, their unique lounge provided something of an obstacle course. To access the hanging orb-like chairs he had to wend his way between the stacks of books that seemed to accumulate no matter how many times they rearranged their shelves or considered another trip to the furnishing store. It wasn’t easy to buy bookshelves for this place. According to every magazine they’d ever read superhero bases had to have an “aesthetic.” Neither of them had ever been sure what that exactly meant but together they had designed a room full of contrasts between light and darkness where everything was round for good measure. The only seating available was the two orbs that hung like moons in an eclipse against the backdrop of glowing monitors. When they had gone over designs, Knoll had asked whether they should have more seating for visitors. Lyon had grown melancholy and he had said no more about it.

The smell of freshly baked brownies made one of the orbs quiver as its occupant was roused from his lethargy. As he sat up straighter, a doll fell from his hanging chair. Knoll put the tray down on the table before kneeling down to pick up the character plush and handing it back to Lyon wordlessly.  The weary looking hero tucked the toy beside him and reached forward for a chocolate brownie. Knoll watched him savour the treat as he climbed into his own swaying chair.

“Do you have any plans for today?”

“Not really,” Lyon sighed, “Just… can we watch a film or something?”

“What do you want to watch?” Knoll reached forward to pick up the remote from the coffee table.  He swivelled his hanging chair, wary of falling cuddly toys as Lyon did the same.  Miraculously not a single red or blue clad superhero found themselves on the floor. Knoll lay back in his orb and brought up Netflix on the monitors.

“Any preferences?” he asked as Lyon rearranged his army of twin heroes.

“Something sappy,” Lyon murmured as he shifted one of his cushions to allow for a fifteen inch plush of Sol the Twin Hero to sit at his right hand side. He turned back to the screens when he was sufficiently surrounded.

“Something romantic and cliché we can laugh at.”

“I know there’s some Ylissean films on here,” Knoll mused. He flicked through the scrolling bars of film suggestions before finding something that looked exactly like what his hero had ordered.

“Wedding Wings,” he read out, “A hilarious yet heart-warming romantic comedy about a Pegasus Knight and a Wyvern Knight falling in love.  Can they ignore their troops’ disapproval and win over the favour of their mounts? The course of love was never steered true.”

“That sounds awful,” Lyon sighed, eyes fixed on the scrolling preview images, “Let’s watch it.”

It was indeed terrible. Knoll retrieved his own tablet computer only fifteen minutes into the film and began to check through his emails.  Mostly spam and announcements of imminent postal deliveries, however his old university had just announced the release a few journals, so perhaps he would get something to read whilst Lyon went through another lethargic stage. Last time this had happened they had gone to New York on holiday. However Knoll wasn’t prepared to travel again so soon. That trip had ended much like their other holidays: too many zombies and a pursuit by the local police force. All they’d been trying to do was get a trapped hang-glider out of a tree. They had planned to go to Rome but they had learnt that ancient civilisations provided a little too much temptation for those with their kind of powers. Still, New York had been good and no one had called any superheroes on them unlike Paris. Knoll shuddered at the memories of Paris.

Knoll was concentrating hard on his latest word against Lyon in online Scrabble when suddenly the film was cut off. Instead of a dramatic scene in a rain-drenched parking lot, the image of a jostling crowd filled the screens with a pair of very recognisable faces at the very centre, each with a microphone pointed at them. Knoll gave them a look before going back to his tablet. Nice to see the name recognition software was working on their TV. Instead of using it for its crime-detecting purposes, Lyon had set it up to recognise the names of his favourite heroes and cut to that channel immediately, even if they were on Netflix. This was clearly another press interview. Knoll had seen dozens so he merely let them talk on in the background.

_“How did you react to being voted number one in the Magvel’s Mightiest Poll of the Year?”_

Ah yes, Magvel’s Mightiest. Knoll frowned at his tablet. He had stopped Lyon’s subscription to that for his own good. He wasn’t mentioned often but when he was it was all horrid gossip and bullying. Lyon didn’t need to see that.

 _“It was such an honour!”_ came from the monitors in a familiar voice. Knoll glanced at Lyon. He had sat up straighter in his orb and was staring at the screen wide-eyed.

 _“We never would have expected it,”_ Luna, the other Twin Hero, continued, _“We’d like to thank everyone who voted and everyone at Magvel’s Mightiest! We couldn’t keep going without your support.”_

 _“And what do you make of it Sol?”_ asked the interviewer.

_“I was very surprised, though you do have to wonder, if they put us separately, who would win?”_

There was laughter all round. Knoll has always had the distinct impression Sol didn’t like the press side of things. He seemed more of a ‘hit it with a stick’ type rather than one for publicity.

 _“So,”_ continued the interviewer, who likely worked for Magvel’s Mightiest, _“What’s new with our favourite Twin Heroes? Any new rivals? Any villain keep coming back for another go?”_

“ _Just our usual jobs I’m afraid_ ,” Luna replied brightly, “ _We haven’t got any rivals, hero or villain.”_

 _“We don’t let the bad guys stay free long enough to make them rivals,”_ Sol added.

 _“That’s why you’re Magvel’s favourite heroes after all!”_ continued the interviewer. Knoll thought he sounded disappointed but who was he to judge? He went back to reading some of the cookery blogs he followed. He lost track of the interview for a while, engrossed by a new recipe for strawberry cake which he knew Lyon would like, but when he paid attention to it, the interviewer had stopped talking about rivals.

 _“Mind if I ask you some opinions on the rumours that have been flying about lately?”_  The interview was keeping up their offensively cheerful tone.

_“Of course not.”_

_“Sure.”_

There was a rustling of papers. Knoll looked up to see the interviewer had a set of cards with ‘Magvel’s Mightiest” printed on the back.

_“So is it true that heroes have to pose for the creation of their action figures?”_

_“Oh no,”_ Luna replied, _“We don’t have any input in that at all. They just say 'so-and-so want to make this of you, they’ll give you x amount of the profits, is that alright?' We sign something and the figures get made. We don’t have any say on how they’ll turn out.”_

 _“That certainly explains some of the stranger ones,”_ chuckled the interviewer.

 _“It does,”_ Luna laughed in response.

Knoll frowned. When you had heard one interview you had heard every interview.  They all sounded the same to him. He and Lyon had never had an interview so he couldn’t really imagine what it was like to sit in that studio, in full costume, and have someone interrogate you. It was a good thing he’d never know, he didn’t think he’d like that pressure at all. Lyon probably wouldn’t handle it very well either.

Knoll lost track of the interview again until a very specific name caught his attention.

 _“Rumour has it,”_ the interviewer continued, “ _That you two have a rivalry going with the Necromancer as you’ve dealt with most of his incidents here in the city. Is that true?”_

Knoll turned to Lyon as the twins laughed upon the screen. Lyon was clutching one of his dolls in each hand with a tightness only active repression could achieve.

 _“Oh no, he’s not our rival,”_ laughed Luna, _“We just…mop up after him occasionally, we must live quite nearby because we’re generally in the same area.”_

 _“He’s not a villain, or a hero really”_ Sol added, “ _He just tries to use his powers when they’re not really necessary. I-“_

Whatever Sol had to say next was cut when Knoll turned off the television very abruptly.

“They’re saying what the press want them to say,” Lyon murmured into the cape of one of his character toys, “Of course they’re saying what the press what them to say.”

“That’s right,” Knoll replied, “They have to keep up their public image. They don’t get to express how they really feel in such a crowd. They’ve got to keep their true identities hidden.”

“I know that.” Lyon curled up and buried himself in the pile of cushions and toys, idly playing with the arm of a “My Adorable Heroine: Luna” doll.  Knoll said nothing and merely watched as his hero seemed to descend into the mound of stuffed figures and lose himself to his own fantasies. That interview would do nothing to help Lyon get over his lethargy, in fact their situation could be worse now he had lost so much heart. Something needed to be done before Lyon took a turn for the unhealthy.  Knoll opened up his emails once more with the intention of sending a priority email to Eirika… he couldn’t let Lyon know he had her priority address or he would spam her constantly and therefore drive her away. However Knoll had it in case one of their ‘episodes’ as the news called them, got out of hand. The Twin Heroes always ended up cleaning up their consequences for a reason. As Magvel’s Mightiest continued in the background, Knoll wrote an urgent yet politely worded email to Eirika nearly identical to the previous dozen except for one line: “ _I fear he will do something drastic if you ignore him any longer.”_ This may not be true but heroes came when things got dire. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.

“We’ve got post,” Lyon commented as the word “delivery” flashed across the screen.

“I’ll get it.”  Knoll clambered out of his chair and  left the hub through a revolving book case.  Ascending two flights of stairs led him to their back door where the delivery hatch lay. It was rather awkward to have post when you had a secret base but the unassuming semi-detached house they’d built their base under had proved rewarding. The natural light was another added bonus. Knoll scooped up the post off the doormat and filed through it, there was no point taking any junk downstairs. Pizza leaflets, double glazing advert, package for Lyon, local newspaper, charity letter and – Knoll frowned as he pulled a business card free from the tape used on the package. He had expected it to be from a taxi company or something equally mundane. What he saw surprised him.

**Blackstone Welfare Clinic**

**Empowering heroes for over twenty years.**

He flipped the card over, the other side it read alongside a phone number:

**Do you have powers but no purpose? Feeling down about your gifts?**

**Want someone experienced to talk to?**

**Call our friendly and confidential helpline at:**

Seemingly on impulse, Knoll stuck the business card back to Lyon’s package. He had no idea such clinics existed but this was exactly what Lyon needed. Someone with more experience than Knoll would be able to give him friendly advice on how to use his less than benevolent powers to actually help people. Calling and talking to someone might help his loneliness as well. Knoll didn’t want to burden the poor people at the Blackstone Welfare Clinic with Lyon’s feelings about the Twin Heroes but perhaps they could help him move on with his life. If he didn’t listen to Knoll then perhaps a professional would suit him better. The only thing Knoll considered himself a professional in was knowing how to deal with Lyon. Somehow that required more work than his degree did.

He brought back the package with him and gave it to Lyon, who had gone back to watching Wedding Wings with a noticeable frown on his face.  Knoll retook his seat and picked up his tablet. He’d received another email. Flicking it open, he had the urge to smile. It was good to see Saleh was still his usual self. In all fairness his overly-formal emails, which were more like electronic letters, were the result of his upbringing in a community with little internet access. He had probably been forced to learn more about computers when he went to university, however Knoll had the feeling his old tutor would never quite get used to be being casual about technology.

The fact he had decided to end an invitation to go out for ice cream with ‘yours sincerely’ was just like him. What was peculiar however was the mention of a charge of his named Myrrh who he would be bringing along. Knoll had heard Saleh had gone back to his strange community despite receiving his PhD. Not a single word had been said about what he was doing there. To Knoll such secrecy only meant one thing: super powers. As interesting as it would be for his mentor to be a hero, he wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. Saleh could be up to any number of things and it wasn’t really any of Knoll’s business.  Still he was eager to finally get a chance to catch up. He hadn’t heard much of anything since Saleh had gone home.

“Lyon?” he enquired as Wedding Wings reached its saccharine climax.

“Yes?”

“Are you planning any ventures for Thursday?” Knoll doubted Lyon had anything planned but it was polite to give him some warning. Lyon would have to preoccupy himself if Knoll was absent but it wouldn’t hurt for him to be gone for a single afternoon.

“No…I was thinking of going swimming…”

“Do you mind going by yourself? My university tutor is in town and we haven’t seen each other in a while.”

Lyon looked a little surprised. Knoll wasn’t sure whether he was shocked that Knoll had other friends or he knew enough about Saleh to know this was a rare occurrence. Knoll did a definite minority of the talking in this base so it was unlikely Lyon knew much about his education.

“That’s fine,” Lyon replied, “Have fun.”

He turned to look back at the screens, his package clutched tighter in his hands. Knoll noted that they had been bleached white by the artificial light. He could just about see the Blackstone Welfare Clinic business card on the grey wrappings. Perhaps Lyon would get lonely whilst he was out and call the clinic? No, that was probably too much to hope for.  If living as a hero had taught him anything it was things did not go right if you didn’t interfere. Lyon could get up to anything in his absence if he could just get over his dreariness. His pure heart was too enraptured by those Twin Heroes… Knoll was slightly sick of seeing those red and blue costumes everywhere from bulletins to bedcovers.

Ah well, he would overcome every new hurdle after some ice cream and intellectual conversation. Really Thursday could not come fast enough. One afternoon wasn’t long enough for Lyon to get himself into anything too dangerous, right? Right. Knoll sent off an email of his own in response. He only hoped Saleh had worked out how to sort out his inbox by now.


	2. Secret Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even the most daring of superheroes have to lead ordinary lives, however one sidekick wonders whether his civilian life is as it should be. A figure from the past re-enters his life causing him to question what he holds dear.

Thursday came and with it an adventure through Knoll’s wardrobe. For someone who spent his working life in a mask and a cape, he would have thought he’d stop caring about such things as fashion. Usually he didn’t care at all, his first meeting with Saleh in a year. He wanted to look somewhat decent in front of him.  He cast his sidekick outfit onto his bed. The cargo shorts landed with a clattering sound that showed he hadn’t got round to clearing out the flasks of holy water like he’d promised. Maybe later, they never really used the water, that was for emergencies and there were generally too many police officers about for them to clear up after their own mistakes. Still, it was useful. Knoll added the rest of the set to the pile. Fortunately Saleh would never come to this base and see their superhero outfits. Lyon had worked very hard to create them and he had done a very good job. However it wasn’t the sort of thing you wanted to be seen in by someone who knew you. At least he’d been spared Lyon’s style of shorts which looked, quite frankly, uncomfortable.

After settling for his usual clothes, he threw on his hooded cardigan and set off for the bus. The district centre had become a lot more accessible since they had moved the Wyvern Delivery headquarters towards the edge of town. Before the relocation, you couldn’t take a single bus journey without the rumbling of giant vehicles. Knoll much preferred this mercifully quiet way of going shopping.  It made it much more pleasant to sit outside, especially next to the bookstore, which had previously been right under the wyvern flight path. As he sat on the bus he thought he might pick up a new book for Lyon to amuse himself with on the way back.  There must be a bestseller Lyon hadn’t read yet.  First though, he needed to find this ice cream shop. Lyon liked sweet things but they usually ordered or brought their food home rather than sitting in some kind of café. They liked the café in the bookshop, but that was quieter and had comfortable seats. They tended to avoid staying in most places and only passed through. Knoll hadn’t heard of the ice cream place Saleh had mentioned so assumed it was rather new. 

It turned out to be wedged between the toy shop and a store selling provocative lingerie. Knoll uneasily stood outside, noticing the juxtaposition of superhero themed toys in both stores. The toy shop was boasting the new array of Magvels’ Mightiest and Elibe's Elite transforming figure play sets.  The other shop was, well, some slogans could not be unseen. He focussed his attention on the ice cream parlour instead. It was a modern sort of place. All clean white surfaces with strips of bright colours running through them. There was a large lit up board above the till with all the sundaes and milkshakes they offered. It was called MAGICAL ICE, which made no sense because there as there was no such thing. However advertising was often inconstant with reality so Knoll ignored it. Instead he focussed on the pair of customers sat in front of the window.

Saleh looked as if time didn’t pass wherever he lived. His long overcoat and brown walking boots were certainly the same as he worn to their every meeting at university. Regardless of where their meeting would be, whether in an office or outside in the park, Saleh would be attired the same. As someone with “unnatural ability”, Knoll had studied from home for his degree. However he was required to have one tutoring session a week, for no more than a few hours. The idea seemed to be to let superheroes manage their education round their missions to save the world. In theory it was a good idea but it only made social interaction more awkward as people either assumed you were a superhero or you required additional help, the main two reasons why you'd come in for meetings. At first Knoll hadn't received any tutoring sessions. Even the Head of Department had called his new mentor “a bit of an odd one” and he had been told to expect very little from the PhD student. Yet after he had given in his first report, Saleh had taken an interest in him. Come to think of it, when they had first met he had been wearing that exact same shirt, alongside the overcoat and boots of course. He was currently contemplating the ice cream menu with the same slight frown he would read a report with. Though his gaze was not on her, he seemed to be in deep discussion about it with the child beside him. A child the like of which Knoll had never seen before.

She had wings. There was no glossing over this fact. Knoll knew some super powers left physical abnormalities behind but this was far beyond strangely coloured eyes or an addiction to butter. The presence of wings was a new matter entirely. (Though according to rumours, there were bird winged people in the Tellius District.) Her wings looked reptilian though, with scales and protruding spikes like out of a storybook on dragons… Was this why  Saleh had disappeared, to look after this bizarre child? She was certainly strange enough to need protection. She evidently had to adjust to fit her wings into her environment. It appeared slits had been cut in her red duffel coat to allow them to move freely 

Knoll entered the ice cream shop, drawing attention to himself as the door gave a disgruntled creak. Saleh and his charge looked up and Knoll walked over to their table, taking the offered seat.

“I’m sorry I’m late.” The chair gave a squeak as he sat down.

“No need for an apology. You were on time but we were early.” Saleh passed him a menu and Knoll glanced at it. It seemed to be quite normal, sundaes, milkshakes, waffles and the like. His attention kept being drawn back to the child. He wondered if Saleh was going to introduce them.  Were winged children normal where Saleh came from? He could remember her name was Myrrh from Saleh’s email, but he wouldn’t mind an explanation if it wasn’t too much trouble.

“What are you two having?” asked Saleh, pulling his wallet from an inside pocket of his overcoat. Realising what he intended to do, Knoll retrieved his own.

“I can get my own-“

Saleh cut across him.

“I arranged this trip and therefore I shall pay. Myrrh? What do you want?”

Myrrh frowned at her menu for a moment before stating.

“I would like the Snowy Pegasus Sundae.” Her voice was strangely serious for a child’s. It was as if her choice of ice cream was a grave decision, or at least something she couldn’t take lightly. He wasn’t sure whether to label her mature or not, she could just be really serious about ice cream, though it seemed unlikely. Saleh was rather serious as well, considering their environment. Was this formality a sign of being uncomfortable?

“Knoll?”

“A, er, vanilla milkshake please.”

Without another word to them, Saleh strode off towards the counter leaving Knoll alone with the strange child. He knew he shouldn’t call her strange. He had developed his powers as a child and Lyon’s had come only a little later. However their powers hadn’t changed their bodies at all, well, they were immune to their own magicks, that was the only abnormality as far as they could tell. This girl however had grown extra limbs, was flight her power or was there more to it than that? Apparently the winged men who lived in the Tellius District were a group who could turn into birds so why not should this girl not transform too?

Whatever she could do, it didn’t make her stare any less disconcerting. As soon as Saleh was away she fixed her gaze upon Knoll and seemingly lost the ability to blink. Knoll looked back at her, a little uneasy under the inspection of those red eyes. He had always thought where Saleh was from was odd but if this girl was from there too… It had become a lot more bizarre. Knoll opened his mouth, intending to say some sort of introduction, however the words seemed to die in his throat. Instead he closed it again and stared at the violently pink trim on the table.

“The waitress stated that she would bring over our order in a few moments.”

Saleh was a welcome sight.  He retook his seat and moved the menus to one side. Knoll immediately focussed on him to try and rid himself of the feeling of being watched.

“So…” Well, his voice was co-operating, that was a start.

“So?” Saleh repeated. He was resting his hands upon the table just like he used to do at his desk. Usually there would be a mug between them or a pen, but Knoll couldn’t help but think about university around him. They would always have tea from the student common room but bring their own mugs in so they didn’t break any of those disposable cups over themselves. One time, when Knoll broke his favourite mug dropping it out the dishwasher, he’d been forced to use one of Lyon’s Twin Hero mugs instead. Saleh had given him a rather bemused expression as he’d explained himself. Knoll hadn’t wanted to seem as obsessed as Lyon was so he had probably seemed rather anxious.

“So,” Knoll tried again, “How have you been?”

“I have been in good health,” Saleh replied, “It takes some adjustment to go between the village and this city but I am adapting well. How are you?”

“I’m also well. Nothing much has changed in my situation.” Knoll sat there for a moment wondering if Saleh was going to introduce the winged child he had acquired. Saleh was never one to skimp on explanations when necessary

“Have you returned to living in the city then?” he asked, hoping to receive some clue of why the contact after three months of absence.

“Yes, I thought it was best to leave the village for a while,” Saleh turned as the waitress arrived and deposited two milkshakes and an ice cream sundae on their table. Knoll was slightly awed by the size of his milkshake, which was as tall as a vase and had scoops of ice cream on its surface, but was too focussed on Saleh’s explanation to pay it too much attention.

“I had been given a taste of city life through my education, and though living in the village is far simpler and more practical, my job is to make sure the Great… Myrrh has a full and enriching life. After having lived for almost a millennia in one small and constant village. I believed she would appreciate a change of pace. I bought a small house walking distance from the town centre and we are currently attempting to integrate ourselves in urban society. It has been a lot of work.”

“Excuse me,” Knoll kept his voice down. Saleh’s tone had lowered into a murmur midway through his story and Knoll could see why. Surely he hadn’t said…?

“A millennia?” He looked at Myrrh, or the Great Myrrh as Saleh had just called her. This child surely couldn’t be a millennia old. That was impossible!  That meant she would have seen what they called mythology being formed, she would have seen terrible wars and the rises and falls of monsters… Yet she looked like a child no older than six or seven. He knew there were some extraordinary superpowers out there but this was quite frankly impossible.

“I am one thousand and three,” said Myrrh into a pink wafer biscuit that had been shaped like a wing, “I have lived before the village was made but I spent most of my life there. I saw Saleh when he looked just as old as me. He wore horrible dungarees.”

It was Knoll’s turn to stare at her. She too had kept her voice down but the way she had said it all so matter of factly. This seemed like no childish fantasy. The maturity in her voice, the intelligence in her stare… Somehow he could believe this small girl was a thousand years old. Somehow it was just so easy to believe. If he could resurrect an Ancient Greek warrior (an accident, honestly) then it somehow didn’t seem so farfetched that this girl could be a millennia old.  Still, he struggled to think of what to say.

“It must have been very boring to…to be the same village for so long.”

“Sometimes,” Myrrh replied, “But the people were all different. I do like the city though, there’s more new things here than I have seen in a long while.”

“We are experiencing city culture,” Saleh informed Knoll, “An old friend of mine has compiled us a list of books and DVD disks that we should partake in to understand popular cultural references. We have film nights once a week and read a great deal. It is intriguing what the minds in cities come up with.”

Knoll wondered what Saleh and Myrrh were watching and reading to learn about popular culture. Hopefully not the Magvels’ Mightiest magazine… an advert on a screen behind the till caught his eye. A lot of rubbish, not worth the glossy paper it was printed on. 

“I also have a job in academic journalism,” Saleh added. Knoll sat up straighter in his seat in surprise. Saleh had received awards for his dissertation and been told he had a bright future in academic writing. It was good that he had managed to make a career out of his talents. Knoll could scarcely imagine what it was like to have a normal job, or a job without Lyon at least.

“Congratulations.” He gave a small smile into his spoon as he tried the vanilla ice cream on top of his milkshake.

“My main job is to look after Myrrh,” Saleh reminded him, “That is my appointed task as it has been in my family for generations. I merely must have funds to support us.”

That added up, Knoll thought. It explained why Saleh had to vanish off back to his village regardless of his prowess. Tradition did often overcome achievement

“Still, it’s an achievement worth congratulating,” he replied, “Having an academic job must be great.”

“It is interesting.” Saleh seemed to contemplate his own milkshake for a while before picking up his spoon.

“How is your career? Are you still living alongside your, what was he, cousin?”

To keep Knoll’s other life a secret they had taken to calling Lyon Knoll’s cousin in conversation to explain why they lived together and Knoll was always vanishing off to look after him. People had been under the impression he studied at home because he was a carer rather than a superhero. Sometimes Knoll wondered if they were right but put the matter from his mind for now.

“Nothing much has changed in my life,” he replied, “Lyon’s on another dangerous low again, too dangerous even for another holiday. This must be the first time I’ve been out the house in what, two weeks? We get our groceries delivered these days.”

“That doesn’t sound entirely healthy,” Saleh pointed out, “Your cousin’s life seems like somewhat of a downward spiral and he’s likely to take you with him. I still don’t quite understand why you joined forces with him, but I trust your judgement.”

“Once he was, how to put it, _inspirational_ ,” Knoll murmured, keeping his voice low as he swirled his spoon in his milkshake to mix the melting ice cream in. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Myrrh, far from being bored, had taken out a copy of “The Twelve Crusaders and the Lopt Dragon”, a semi-historical picture book he’d once read as a child. He focussed his attention on Saleh once more.

 “He didn’t let what people thought of his abilities stop him. He was so keen to be a hero, and believe it or not we saved as many, if not more, lives than were lost through our efforts. We didn’t care if we didn’t get the credit. Lyon knew people would label him a villain and carried on regardless… but now…” Knoll’s gaze flickered to the television on the wall where another advert for Magvel’s Mightiest played.

“He’s distracted by the Twin Heroes just as before,” Saleh remarked over his spoon, “And he values their words so highly he doesn’t hear yours.”

“He’s got such an innocent heart,” Knoll sighed, “He becomes passionate about things so easily and that’s why he gets hurt. After not having seen them for so long, he confuses his friends with those idols he sees on the television… so he pursues both with all the enthusiasm he once held for our research.”

“You are extraordinarily loyal,” Myrrh commented from behind her book, “I’ve never met a good person with such a dark aura before. I suppose occasionally powers do not dictate the sort of person who uses them.”

The seriousness in her voice was still very disconcerting. No one reading a picture book, whilst eating a pastel coloured sundae shaped like a Pegasus, should speak like that. Myrrh ate the marshmallow horn of the Snowy Pegasus sundae and glanced at Knoll over her book. He hastily looked away.

“Still,” Saleh filled the awkward silence, “I believe you may appreciate this next offer. I worry often about Myrrh getting bored cooped up in our house. My sources say that joining a group activity is a good way to integrate yourself into an urban environment, therefore I have signed up to an Adults’ and Children’s arts and crafts club. Would you like to attend with us? We will be taking classes every Tuesday evening. Next week there shall be something called ‘decoupage’. They say they supply the materials.”

Knoll couldn’t remember the last time he’d been invited anywhere. Lyon’s suggestions of missions didn’t really count because he came up with the plan as much as Lyon did and they never went to any organised events. This however did sound like a thing he should be turning up to every week. What if Lyon needed him one Tuesday evening? Then again, it meant he could see Saleh at least once every week and that was certainly a change for the better. Saleh made it sound like Myrrh wasn’t the only one who was being cooped up in a house, or perhaps that was just how Knoll was interpreting his words because he knew it to be true. He couldn’t lie to himself, he wanted to go. Yet what if Lyon needed him? Lyon wasn’t actually doing anything at the moment and due to his lethargy, was unlikely to anytime soon but- He felt so selfish but he really did want to spend more time with Saleh.

“I’ll come…where does it take place?”

Lyon could forgive him. He could mind himself for an evening a week, he was an adult.  Knoll reminded himself as Saleh took out a piece of paper from his wallet and handed it over. It contained the address of a community hall and the time to arrive: nine thirty pm.

“If you tell me the location of your house, I can drive you there,” Saleh added, “If you want to keep that a secret however, I understand.”

“It’s fine,” Knoll assured him, “I don’t think you would leak our location to anyone with bad intentions.”

“I wouldn’t.”

Knoll took a pen from the pocket his cardigan. Saleh offered him another piece of paper like the one with the hall’s address. He was always so organised. Knoll wrote down his address and handed it over.

“Do you want directions?” Knoll took note that his ice cream had finally managed to melt. He sipped the milkshake, it wasn’t bad.

“I now have a device in my car that gives me directions, but thank you for the offer,” Saleh tucked the card into his wallet, “I look forward to spending more time with you.”

“As do I,” Myrrh chipped in, “I want to know how someone can resist the allure of a dark aura like you apparently do.”

Knoll wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or not so merely nodded in thanks. 

Their conversation took on a less serious note from that point onwards. Well, Saleh was always rather formal but they no longer talked about dark auras and arrangements, instead moving onto the topics of shops, food and the weather.  Apparently most of what Saleh and Myrrh used to buy came from their village market so they were adjusting to shopping centres and large supermarkets. Knoll recommended some places that were affordable and some foods he reckoned they should try. He even offered to bring them some home-baked cakes. (Something he regretted almost as soon as he’d said it. Only Lyon ate his cooking, what if other people didn’t like it?) He changed the topic by trying to make conversation with Myrrh. She remained frighteningly mature but she seemed more human when she discussed her favourite things from the city: pet cats, post-boxes and scented felt tips.  

After finishing their ice cream or milkshakes they left to look about the town centre. Though, according to Saleh, he had been here multiple times whilst at university, he insisted Knoll gave them a tour so they knew their way around ‘properly’. Knoll of course was happy to oblige and didn’t realise how long he had spent walking around the district centre until his cardigan started proving inefficient against the evening chill.

“I should go back,” he said as they left a branch of J-hanger. (Why did clothing stores have to have such cringe-worthy names? Knoll had always wondered. Still they did good cardigans.) Saleh nodded in response.

“Farewell then. I will see you Tuesday?”

“Yes,” Knoll replied, “I look forward to it. Goodbye then.”

“Goodbye!” called Myrrh as he turned about in the direction of the bus stop. She sounded a lot more like a child when she made a great deal of noise. He wondered if Lyon would like to know about her and Saleh. Perhaps he could meet them and have more people in his life that weren’t upon the television. He hadn’t seemed very interested last time Knoll had attempted to tell him about Saleh. He had listened politely enough but he hadn’t said much afterwards. Thinking about it, Knoll realised he would probably get home to see that nothing had changed. Lyon would probably be watching those cartoons on the internet about real life superheroes again. Perhaps he would be making clothes for his dolls, not really caring that he, Knoll, had really been out.

Knoll stared at his own knees through the entire bus journey. Being out like this made him wonder what he could be doing if he didn’t live with Lyon. He hated the thought of course. Who else would be there for Lyon if he wasn’t? Lyon was all alone in the world, he had been since his father had died for a second time. Lyon needed him or his life truly would fall apart. Yet, it didn’t hurt to think of alternatives did it? 

Prepared for nothing to be amiss, he entered the house and descended into their base. The hub was just as dark as usual. Only a single monitor remained on and in front of the central console was Lyon, typing furiously at something Knoll hoped wasn’t another fan fiction.  The hero turned as Knoll approached. To his side kick’s astonishment, he was smiling.

“Knoll, I have a plan!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For hero outfit designs, chapter previews and other related nonsense, check my tumblr tag for this fic! http://squishymagesquad.tumblr.com/tagged/fic%3A-Ne%27er-do-Wells


	3. Second Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mysterious gang, a valuable treasure, and a mysterious change of heart... To any hero this should seem like a day's work, but to our Ne'er Do Well sidekick, this mission treads a little too close to home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the deaths of many unnamed character by way of fire. Also there is a mention of needles. Just thought I'd warn you here in case.

No, this was impossible.  This couldn’t happen. Knoll had known Lyon since they were children and this simply did not occur by itself.  Lyon’s episodes of inactivity, perhaps even depression, took weeks to recover from, sometimes even months. He never managed it by himself. Returning his motivation was a long and complicated procedure full of walks around parks, holidays, and a lot of pointless reading.  He had been in his current state for three weeks so Knoll had assumed they were approaching the lowest point as per usual. However Lyon was grinning, genuinely too, it was the sort of smile that met his eyes. How had he pulled himself out his slump? How had he raised himself from his lethargy without Knoll being there, without the long and gradual process they always had to go through? Any other person, not that anyone else cared, would think this a cause for celebration. However after knowing Lyon for over ten years, Knoll was almost frightened by this transformation. He knew Lyon’s moods and behaviours like the back of hand. This was unnatural and he needed to get to the bottom of it. He needed to understand and quickly, however he couldn’t hurt Lyon’s feelings. It was best to just learn what this plan was and go from there.

He assumed a stool beside Lyon’s and asked:

“What have you decided?”

Lyon picked up the remote and made four more monitors light up. They each contained a separate map or floor plan. Knoll squinted through the sudden burst of light and saw a location he recognised.

“Isn’t that Rausten Cathedral?” He looked at the other three plans, one was a road map of the surrounding area, the other two were unfamiliar building plans.

“Yes!” Lyon pointed at the floor plan of the cathedral, “This is where we’re going. More specifically, this is where the people we’re after are going before we head there.”

“A mission?” How had Lyon picked up a mission? They no longer had access to the police communicators, he’d recalibrated the recognition software to pick up his heroes names and not relevant crime scenes. What happened whilst Knoll was out?

Lyon activated two more screens. On them Knoll saw drawings of what looked like an ornate gold chest. It had the symbol of the Church of Latona on its lid, the star studded staff was hard to miss. They were drawings rather than photographs, which was slightly odd, however there was no doubt that whatever that chest was or contained, it was valuable.

“Today I did a bit of researching,” Lyon murmured, lighting up another screen. This one just seemed to be a list of incomprehensible numbers. Knoll stared at it. By the way it was organised, dates? But what seemed to be recorded were merely numbers too.

“A year ago we became aware of the Rausten Record Chambers, a hidden archive under the cathedral.”

“We also discovered their security systems are tighter than most banks’,” Knoll reminded him. The Rausten Record Chambers were an enigmatic treasure trove, but one they would not dare explore. As their powers were so dark and death-orientated, the church had considered them sinners even before they had attempted to make a difference with their abilities. They preached against the foul forces in this world, regardless of whether they were used for evil or not. It was no secret that between them, he and Lyon shared  a distaste for such religion. They had tried once or twice to defy them, to defile a few monuments, but that was far as they dared go. The church had their own forces, not labelled heroes, but what they used were definitely unnatural powers. Usually they had no problem with light, but the light magic the holy heroes used hurt like inch thick needles penetrating their skin. They learned to stay away from the records after that.

However, once again it seemed the Rausten Record Chambers had proved too alluring to be avoided. What had Lyon found that could drive them to infiltrate such a place? What was it they were going to claim, or someone else was going to claim for them? Lyon had mentioned someone else going in before them. It was a good tactic to let them deal with the holy men and then do whatever Lyon planned afterwards.

“This,” Lyon pointed at the drawings of the chest, “Is the Arc of Latona. It supposedly predates the cathedral itself, as does its contents, however that is a lie. I believe some of its contents may be akin to relics, but it has a great deal more use than the tourist guide wants to tell us.”

“So it contains something they want to hide from the public eye,” Knoll concluded, drawing his stool in closer. Lyon was looking rapturously at the screen with an enthusiasm Knoll had dearly missed. It was so good to see him happy, and though it was mysterious, the sight became less shocking the more pleased Lyon seemed. It didn’t matter why he was so happy right at this moment, it was just good that he was.

“This drawing,” Lyon continued, “Is of the real Arc of Latona, not the fake they put out for tourists. It is guaranteed to be located in the Rausten Record Chambers and it is not only a prime target for thieves but it contains something worth more to us than that entire cathedral put together.”

“To us?” Knoll queried, Lyon was making it sound like they were going to rob this place.

“It’s official name is the Kept Records of Fiends, or as it’s known in fables, the Demonicon. Since records began the church has listed those with our type of powers, making them seem monstrous, painting them as fiendish denizens of Hell… Yet every man and woman in there was once a hero or villain like us. I have a plan to read that book to learn about who and what came before us. To understand why people hate us, we need to know what came before us to give them such preconceptions. That book will tell us.”

“That is a brilliant idea,” Knoll began, “However are you suggesting we rob the cathedral? Learning about the past is not worth committing any crime.”

Lyon actually laughed.  Knoll wished he could take a photograph or somehow preserve this moment.  His need to discover what had cheered Lyon up returned with greater strength, but it seemed Lyon was not done yet.

“We aren’t going to commit any crimes,” Lyon replied, “It just so happens that there will be an attempt on the Arc of Latona tomorrow night by a gang known as Galeforce. They made some public threats to the cathedral staff,  it was all over the news. They’re confident to the point of arrogant that they can get the Arc. I believe them.”

“So you’re going to let them steal it,” Knoll concluded, “And then take it off them and return it?”

“Yes, we can return it a few days later after we have fully scanned the Demonicon. We wouldn’t really be stealing it, merely borrowing it for a while.”

“I see.” It was a good plan and avoided any horrible encounters with holy men.  There was one question however that Lyon had failed to answer.

“When would we return it?”

“Tuesday evening,” Lyon said simply, “The cathedral has its Family Worship and Praise choir evenings on that day. All focus will be on the main hall, it will be easy to sneak round and leave it somewhere in the bowels of the cathedral, we won’t go into the records.”

“At what time?” Knoll was reluctant to ask. He didn’t know how well Lyon would react to him meeting with Saleh again so soon and potentially missing out on their plan. However he wasn’t sure how Saleh would feel if he skipped out on their arrangements to go and return a stolen box. He didn’t want to disappoint either of them but if they had to return the box on that evening… what choice did he have?

“The event starts at six thirty,” Lyon informed him, oblivious it seemed to Knoll’s tension, “Which mean we warp in at twenty-five to, leaving us with two hours to leave the Arc and warp out of there. What’s more worrying is how we’re going to stop Galeforce.”

Knoll managed to restrain his sigh of relief. If it only took two hours at most, they should be back in time for him to change and leave with Saleh. However the course of their missions never ran smooth. As long as they kept zombies out the plan they should save some time, however dealing with religious types had always been a painful and rather lengthy set of experiences. Add first class thieves on top of that… Lyon better have some kind of plan.

The screens were all suddenly filled with the road map, on it were marked the cathedral and a road had been highlighted in red.

“The chest is supposedly iron with wooden and golden ornamentation on every side,” Lyon explained, “It is going to be heavy. A theif couldn’t just go in there, pick it up and run off over the rooftops unless they’ve got super strength the like of which no one has seen before. They’re going to need mechanisms, several people and a vehicle to get the Arc away.”

“However we can just warp it home between us,” Knoll finished, “We have to be careful not to burn the street with dark energy or people will suspect us of being involved with Galeforce. We need to work out what route they’d take so we can intercept them whilst remaining unseen.”

“I’ve already begun.” Lyon picked up a ruler off the desk and pointed it at the screens.

“This is the area around the cathedral. Being a religious establishment, it’s heavily guarded.  There are more cameras there than in the district centre, which is where this main road actually leads.” He pointed at a long road that shot off the side of the map.

“The other main road leads to the University of Magvel,” Knoll pointed out, “If students are using it, there also ought to be cameras. Which means they are going to need a back route big enough to fit a reasonable sized vehicle down…”

He stared at the map and focussed on the red line that it looked like Lyon had added.  That was part of the one way parking system around the town centre, they couldn’t possibly use that one for their getaway without causing a large traffic jam. However there were other roads not marked off, so was Lyon trying to work out which one the thieves would use?

He logged into the computer himself and selected his own screen. Pulling up a street view vision of the area he began to look through the streets he could see on the plan. He needed to find something large enough for a vehicle.

“They will use a car,” Lyon added, “The Arc is too heavy and unbalanced for a motorcycle. It’s probably also enchanted, they will want to move it carefully in a car or small van.”

“Right, we need to know how large the average van or car is and use that to pinpoint which roads and alleys they can get down,” Knoll opened up an internet browser, all thoughts of whether he could make his Arts and Crafts appointment gone for the time being. If this went well he wouldn’t need to worry about whether he could attend his appointment or not because it would take less than two hours for them to get back from giving back the chest on Tuesday evening.

He began his research as Lyon began to mark off alley ways obviously too small to be driven down. This, this was how it used to be. He and Lyon, charting out areas, discussing the uses of their magic and never once considering that they might stop simply because people didn’t like them.  They were doing good, albeit with a slight detour in the middle, but all in all they were both knocking a notoriously evil gang down a bit and returning a stolen possession. They truly would be heroes. Knoll remembered how it had once been. Lyon sitting at the computers in full costume, exclaiming how much he looked forward to going out that evening, how he hoped to make the city just a little bit safer. He had been so motivated, so excited to do his part, to be like his adored Twin Heroes. There had been less merchandise about then admittedly. Knoll looked down at the mousemat and saw the faces of the Twin Heroes smiling back at him, looking determined and ready for action. He moved the mouse over one face and his wrist over the other.

He remembered the times before Lyon had any slumps. Ordinary heir during the day, crime fighting vigilante at night! He always smiled and laughed freely, he was quite frankly adorable. Knoll glanced at the figure sitting beside him. Lyon’s smile, quietly determined, reminded him of those occasions too well. It wasn’t the same but…he would settle for the closest he could get. He was still surprised that Lyon had managed to save himself from this one. When he had left this morning Lyon had been watching TV, idly playing with figurines whilst not doing much of anything. Now he was intending to take on an infamous gang who had never actually been sighted by police or heroes.

“Do you think we can take on Galeforce?” he asked Lyon, crossing off a few streets of his own, clearly only designed for pedestrians. There had to be a reason for this miracle, but if he mentioned Lyon’s moods, who was to say he wouldn’t revert? Knoll had to walk on egg shells here.

“With the element of surprise we won’t have to,” Lyon replied, “We ambush them, disable their vehicle, take hold of the Arc and warp away together. If they end up speeding away from us, we take fire, kill and resurrect one of their members so they can take control and bring the vehicle back to us, then the plan returns to normal.”

“That is an excellent idea.”

“Thank you,” Lyon sounded even more cheerful. He span round on his stool to face Knoll, “I can’t wait to be suited and booted once more. We’ll prove to them… No one has ever caught Galeforce  before and we shall. No one will expect us to try let alone succeed and we shall.”

“Your confidence is inspiring.” Knoll tried to sound a little less shocked than he felt. He evidently failed because Lyon narrowed his eyes at him and his smile faded a little.

“Is anything the matter?”

“Oh no, nothing,” Knoll apologised with haste. He couldn’t exactly say ‘ _you are far too happy’_  without sounding cruel. Lyon continued to stare at him, smile slipping further as his eyes gained a disappointed look. Knoll hurried to amend what he had said.

“I was simply wondering what you did today to enable you to come with such a good plan.”

“Oh, I was just watching the news,” Lyon turned away, “I’ve been thinking about the Demonicon ever since the last time we researched. I am glad to finally have a chance to get my hands on it.” He glanced at Knoll, his sweet smile back.

“Won’t it be good to learn how to make ourselves socially acceptable?”

“Very much so,” Knoll replied. That smile was a memento of forgotten days making daisy chains in the gardens or reading history books intended for those thrice their age. He had not seen that smile for years, regardless of highs and lows. Something was very wrong here, beautiful but very alarming.

“The Demonicon,” Lyon sighed as Knoll considered contacting Saleh to ask for help. He had a fresh email open by the time Lyon said:

“Just think of it, forbidden information and records by the lorry load all in that one… Knoll!”

“Yes?”

“Lorry load!” Lyon suddenly exclaimed, he began typing furiously and suddenly a flashing green square appeared on their road map. It was beside an unmarked road.

“What is that?” Knoll asked.

“That is Lagdou Pizza,” Lyon stated, excitement barely kept from his tone, “You know the place that remains open even though five people found spiders in their garlic bread and it smells like death in there?”

“I remember.” Knoll wondered how he had forgot.

“Won’t there be lorries or vans going to and from that place, bringing in ingredients and taking pizzas away?” Lyon didn’t sound like he was asking, more like, coming to a conclusion. Knoll got it only a moment later.

“Galeforce will use one of their vans to get away with the Arc,” Knoll checked the map, “That road hasn’t got any cameras on it, and it’ll take them away from the one way system. However that means, we need to stop them getting the Arc into the van quickly otherwise we might end up taking down dozens of identical vans to find the right one.”

“That is a good point,” Lyon mused, “That means we’ll have to be right outside Lagdou Pizza. It’ll be a gamble, if it proves that’s not what they’re using, we’ll lose the Arc for good.”

“Is there any other convenient disguise they could use?”

They ended up bouncing ideas back and forth for the rest of the evening and long into the night. This was how it always used to be. Ideas, hypotheses, research, experiments and usually dreadful results, that was how it had been, though increasingly less so over time. With every low point, Lyon lost a little of his imaginative flare and scientific intrigue. When he had regained some sense of purpose he didn’t seem as enthusiastic as he once had. Yet here and now Knoll was presented with a fresh faced Lyon who looked like he had never cried a week away or wandered the streets at night wondering where his friends had gone. It was good but it wasn’t right.  The more he saw and heard the greater Knoll’s worry became. Before he turned in for the night he sent a quick message to Saleh in the hopes he had something wise to say on the matter. However Saleh knew nothing about their home life and what he did was from a year ago… Lyon had changed since then.

He slept uneasily that night and regretted it the following day. That night they would take on Galeforce and he needed all the rest he could get. It didn’t help that Lyon was acting like a child who had been told he could have two Christmases. Well, he was acting like he used to do at Christmas, he was hurrying everywhere, unable to sit down. He was in full costume, which was admittedly not something he did at Christmas, however he was running round with boxes and packages as if their monitors had become the fairy lights of one giant tree. After eating dinner, Knoll returned to his room to confront the heap that was his sidekick outfit. He still hadn’t cleaned out the holy water yet so who knew what the magic could end up doing. Probably explode based on what happened in Paris.

He had nothing against Lyon’s outfit designing skills. In all fairness, Lyon had let him specify what he didn’t want his outfit to contain. However that had obviously not been as constraining to Lyon’s imagination as he’d hoped.  He changed into his cargo shorts with a small sigh.  He had assumed Lyon understood by the fact he never wore tight clothing that he would prefer his sidekick outfit to be on the baggier side. Lyon clearly hadn’t. He slipped on his lycra-blend top and quickly added the sleeveless puffer jacket to avoid the sight of his own chest made purple.  Raising his hood and slipping on his mask he went to look for Lyon. Maybe due to the cold weather, his hero would wear something more than tiny shorts this time. Knoll didn’t want him catching a cold and it would be practical, though less impressive, for him to wear trousers on this cool autumn evening.

So of course he wasn’t.

“Shall we?” Lyon spun on his heel, his cape fluttering about him as he headed towards their appointed warp zone.

“Yes, let’s hurry.”

As they packed themselves into the broom closet they referred to as their warp room, Knoll pulled his hood down over his eyes, his mask insufficient for what he knew came next. Lyon’s hands were small and soft, a little cold where his nail varnish met Knoll’s palms, but all in all just as he remembered them.   He wrapped his fingers over Lyon’s loose fist as they took their stance for warping. Lyon’s eyes remained on the ground whilst Knoll focused on the gemstone they had fixed to the ceiling.

“Ready?”

“Yes my hero,”

There was a flash of white light, the smell of burning fruit, and a distinctly unpleasant feeling at the back of Knoll’s throat. In mirrored motions, they took flasks from their belts and downed half the contents. Magic was very dehydrating, especially that as powerful as a warping, however they needed to save their water for any other powerful spells they would use tonight.

They had appeared in a dingy looking back street. The pavement was sticky with gum, bird waste and spilt cans of indistinguishable liquids.  The road was cobbled but drivable, the bollards that marked its start and finish had been sunk into the ground to allow for the trade of Lagdou Pizza and the surrounding equally disreputable businesess. Knoll wrinkled his nose as the smell of death and artificial cheese wafted from the back door of the take away joint. He wasn’t going to be able to look at a pizza in a while. Instead he began marking out the most pleasant places to lurk in this dark recess of town.

“I can sense quite a lot of death,” Lyon whispered as Knoll tried to ignore the stench of a nearby dumpster, “We’ll have reinforcements if need be.”

“I can only sense animal remains.” Knoll decided against the dumpster for the sake of their lungs. Instead he cast his gaze on the roof tops. There was a sky light on one of the buildings to the left, they should have a firm footing beside that.

“There’s an intact human buried under the house three to your left,” Lyon replied, “And another two houses down from me. Not enough I know, but if we work together we can extend the field downwards and we’ll undoubtedly find more.”

“Let’s get onto the roof,” Knoll suggested, “We’ll have a better scope of the area from there.”

“Yes, let’s.”

With another flash of white light, unnoticed by the busy kitchen below, they appeared on the roof above where they had previously been standing. Knoll could see the great lights of Rausten Cathedral from here. Spotlights, like those of a movie premiere, stood as pillars in front of the great marble entrance, casting the symbol of Latona in changing hues upon the stonework. Like all Rausten buildings, the cathedral, the boarding school and the mansion on the hill, it was unapologetically gaudy. Knoll wrinkled his nose, not from the ever present smell, but at the thought of such excess dedicated to religious means. Money was dangerous but to give it to mad people who would kill them in an instant, that was lunacy.

“Right, next step,” Lyon murmured, “I’ll set up the beginnings of our detection perimeter whilst you look out for helicopters. Then you take over and I’ll focus on that pizza place.”

“Indeed.”  Knoll set his gaze skywards, looking about for any odd flashes of light in the night sky. Apart from the cathedral he could see the rhythmic glow of the advertising in the Tellius District. They had towers far larger than any in Magvel and on a clear night like this he could almost make out the logos and lettering from here. He turned away to focus on the town centre. He saw a blip of blue round the district’s tallest structure.

“There’s something hovering round the VBC, however it seems too late for news helicopters.”

“Colour?” Lyon asked as he focussed on the street below, waving his index fingers before him in lopsided figures of eight.

“Blue, flashing white I think,” Knoll kept his eyes fixed on the broadcasting tower, “Only the one light… no wait, two lights. One blue one white!”

“A fight then,” Lyon concluded, “They should be too wrapped up in what they’re doing to care for us. Let’s hope it gets out of hand, we’ll have the police distracted.”

“There should be more police around the cathedral surely?” Knoll almost got caught in the face by Lyon’s flapping cape. The wind had picked up, not something he had foreseen in his rooftop suggestion admittedly.

“I think they’re inside,” Lyon replied. Darts of dark purple energy left his fingertips and streaked down into the street below like two errant fireworks.

“Take care of the perimeter, I need to count the vans.”

They assumed new positions. Knoll carefully mapped the distance between the two dead men Lyon had sniffed out and used what little remained of their existence to create a trap across the street. Any slight trace of magic, not their own of course, to cross their barrier was an immediate blast of dark energy away from discovery. It required a lot of concentration however. Knoll estimated these bodies were probably in the foundations of the buildings, making them at least fifty years old.  That was a perfectly easy space of time to deal with but… getting the magic through the concrete certainly wasn't. This may be a dump of a road but its foundations were commendably solid.

“Knoll!” Lyon called under his breath.

“Please give me a moment I’m almost done with-“

“Knoll, l- Oh holy Holsety, they’re _flying_!”

Knoll wasn’t given any time to stop his enchantment or even duck. Lyon grabbed him and used his full weight to knock him onto the roof tiles. The bolts of energy, once intended to soar in graceful arcs like Lyon’s, fell to the ground like glowing stones and exploded in great clouds of acrid smoke, filled with leaping purple sparks like a contained yet malevolent storm.  The flying car, a murky green old banger with the Lagdou Pizza logo on the side, came screeching down the street, levitating about a metre off the ground. Knoll saw a glint of gold from their back seats just as Lyon cried

“Get them!”

Three things happened in very short succession.  Galeforce noticed them and reacted with a deluge of fire from their passenger side window. Lyon had then responded, seemingly on instinct, with a great bolt of combined destruction and resurrection magic, the sort that would kill then return the Galeforce members under their control. Thirdly, the Galeforce members crossed the incomplete barrier.

On instinct, Knoll grabbed Lyon and rolled out of harms’ way. The Galeforce members weren’t so lucky. One managed to abandon their vehicle but was soon consumed as the rest crashed and became a great pillar of red flame. As Knoll peered over the guttering, sheltering the shocked Lyon, who stared wide-eyed at the carnage. The figures in the carriage, who had evidently been hit by the resurrection spell tried to get up, however the fire consumed them and they were reduced to ashes. However soon they were trying to get up once more and a horrid cycle of resurrection and burning began right before their eyes. The car was gone, it had exploded on impact, destroying the exposed side of the take away shop. Now the crumbling forms of men and women were stumbling out of the back of Lagdou Pizza. Burning then resuming their step, burning then continuing to walk through the wreckage.

The blare of police sirens could be heard on the wind before the flashing blue and red lights could be seen on the horizon.

“Lyon, we have to get out of here.” Knoll urged as Lyon lay there staring at the constant cycle of death and rebirth in the flames beneath him. His mouth was open as if in a silent gasp as the screaming men and women burned to ash before being silenced and then made to scream anew.

“Lyon, we have to move. The Arc is no doubt destroyed! We must go!”

“The Demonicon… is lost.” The bloody fire was reflected in Lyon’s wide eyed stare. The sirens were drawing closer. They could not remain here!

“Lyon, we have to go!”  Knoll offered his hand to his hero, helping him to his feet. They arranged themselves to warp away just as a new shadow darkened the sky. There was a loud flapping like that of a very large cape. Knoll saw a glint of gold on white as their vanishing flash was obscured by the smoke.

As soon as they returned home, Lyon burst free from the closet and sprinted in the direction of his room. Knoll watched him go, giving him a head start and taking the time to put on the vents before chasing after him. He cast his mask onto the coffee table in the central hub before pursuing Lyon towards their bedrooms. Lyon seemed to have warped into his room for Knoll couldn’t see hide nor hair of him as he  entered the corridor that contained their personal spaces.

“Lyon?”

He ignored the Magvels' Mightiest door hanger and tried the door knob. He twisted it fruitlessly as he heard sobbing from behind the door. Lyon was crying. Lyon had been so happy earlier, as if everything was looking up and now –

“Lyon, let me in!”

He heard Lyon move away from the door and had no way to know what he was doing in there. He knocked so hard that the flimsy door hanger clattered to the ground.

“Lyon, you’re upset, let me in!”

He heard a particular loud cry and he hammered the door harder.

“Leave me alone!” Lyon wailed, “Go away!” There was a stumbling sound, a loud click and a definite thump. Knoll could only imagine that he had fallen over something or tripped on a cable.  He felt panic well up in his chest and his breathing grew laboured as if that fire sought to fill his lungs with ash from afar. Lyon’s mood had flipped a full one hundred and eighty degrees. This morning he was euphoric, this evening he was distraught. Sure Knoll had tided Lyon through many bad times but he had never heard his hero sob before… Usually Lyon sat in their lounge with a cold sort of numbness after a failed mission. He would stare at the carpet, play with a toy, then end up going to bed early. Yet now… He was mood-swinging far too rapidly for Knoll’s liking.

There was a moment of silence before Knoll heard Lyon again. He seemed to be trying to speak to himself through his sobs.

“ I under-understand now… I’m not strong enough for them to ever like me! I can’t be strong enough on my own like this.”

Knoll tried the door knob again but it merely rattled against its lock. He stood there, staring at the woodwork as Lyon cried within. He could call out to him again. He could beg to come in until Lyon could refuse him no longer. He could tell Lyon that he would always be there when Lyon needed him. He could explain that he cared, he wanted to be beside Lyon, to be his friend and not his butler, counsellor, whatever he was!  He could hold Lyon, and reassure him that there would never be another pure-hearted hero like him. He could…but what use would it be? He had lost count of his every attempt, his every turn at comforting his hero.  Every occasion had proved as fruitless as the last. Lyon simply did not want to hear it from him. Lyon didn’t need him and if he didn’t get who he needed…

“Lyon, talk to me,” he begged through the keyhole, “Please let me in, we can talk.”

“What good has talking ever done!” Lyon exclaimed, “Leave me be! I’ve…I’ve had a long day!”

“If that’s what you wish.”

Knoll turned from the door and walked towards his own room with an uneasy mind and heavy heart. He stopped halfway down the corridor and considered turning back. Before this moment, he had selflessly dedicated himself to Lyon’s cause. Never considering just turning his back and letting his partner weep alone in his room. He was so being despicably selfish for even thinking of turning from Lyon’s side.  Yet he still didn’t know what to do. If he continued to coddle Lyon at every opportunity then he could only see three paths set out before them, whatever the outcome of tonight.

The first possibility was that nothing would happen because of his actions as per usual. Lyon would pine and sink lower and lower until something awful happened. Knoll had feared this downward spiral for a long time and it seemed every more likely now Lyon was crying.

His second terrible idea was that Lyon would get fed up of him and do something reckless. He would run out and try and get the twins’ attentions in the most dangerous way possible.  This would lead at best to imprisonment and at worst, death. No one else in the district had powers like theirs’. They would undoubtedly get blamed for tonight’s events.

Thirdly and lastly, there was always a chance Lyon would find all the newspaper clippings, powdered medication and self-help guides Knoll had stashed away in his study. Knoll could not anticipate his reaction but he knew it wouldn’t be positive. Lyon was trying to stand on his own two feet and if he knew how much Knoll had been propping him up behind the scenes. He wouldn't be best impressed.

All in all… Knoll didn’t know what to do. He entered his own room and sat on his bed, removing the terrible jacket and shirt in favour of his nightshirt. He picked up his phone from the bedside table and saw Saleh had sent him a text. Ah yes, he had told Saleh about Lyon’s inexplicably good mood. Well he guessed he should update Saleh on this new frightening development. Best to read Saleh’s response first though… There were four messages waiting for him.

**Dear Knoll.**

**I received your email however Myrrh has taken over the computer to research something she calls Neo-pets. My friend Gerbil however has taught me to communicate with text messages. I think Lyon’s sudden cheerfulness is very strange considering what you have told me. Be watchful.**

**Best wishes.**

**Saleh**

**Dear Knoll,**

**My friend is not called gerbil. His name is Gerbil. I thought I would clear that up.**

**Best wishes.**

**Saleh**

**Dear Knoll**

**My friend is not called gerbil.  Why must this device convert his name into gerbil? I do not understand. His name is G.E.R.I.K. However that is one name without the punctuation.**

**Best wishes.**

**Saleh**

 

**Dear Knoll.**

**A matter has come up which I wish to discuss with you as an issue of importance. I understand that you are undoubtedly stressed over your hero and I would not put any more burdens upon your shoulders. However you are the one I trust most in this matter and I would dearly like to speak with you about it. I would like to invite you round for tea after our meeting at the arts and crafts society on Tuesday. If it is too much for you, I understand that and will not bother you with this personal issue of mine. You however are the one I desire to talk to most.**

**May your dreams be peaceful as the dragon slumbers.**

**Saleh**

 

Knoll fell back on his bed, partially dressed and trembling. His phone fell onto the bed and remained there, glowing a moment longer before fading all to black. Knoll stared at where he knew the ceiling to be and clasped his hands tight within his nightshirt. Lyon needed him. Saleh needed him. Yet who did he go to when he just needed someone to unload his burdens upon?


	4. Empowered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our weary side-kick has an appointment to keep with an old friend. More truths come to light than either could have predicted. Such are the burdens of those who become empowered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for minor character death and the death of a pet.

Lyon had not left his room since last night. The breakfast tray full of all Lyon’s favourites had vanished from sight, however Knoll had not seen him take it.  Admittedly, he wasn’t in a very good shape to notice things right now. Sleep was eluding him and he seemed to be constantly getting up and down to visit the coffee machine. He sat curled up in his hanging chair idly watching videos on his tablet. They proved little distraction as he tried to comprehend the situation at hand, let alone work out what he could possibly do about it. He had sent a text back to Saleh but he was evidently too busy to reply. He already had other friends to occupy his weekends with despite living here for such a short time. Knoll buried his face into the side of his chair. He didn’t know how to help. He didn’t know how to make Lyon feel better and he didn’t know who to turn to in this time of need! He couldn’t burden Saleh with his woes and interrupt his socialising. However, and he hated his cowardice for this, he didn’t know anyone else. His life had been dedicated to Lyon yet now…

He wanted someone else to talk to. He wanted someone who would listen and offer him support. If he had that, in turn he could be that much better for those who relied on him. He was sure he had wished this before at some point, but now, this had become his second priority. The first was of course trying to find out how to make Lyon feel better. To do that he shouldn't just sit around idling, he should at least try something.

Knoll got to his feet and wondered if tidying up the central hub was a good idea. It probably wouldn’t help Lyon at all but it would give him something to useful to do as he thought over his next strategy. The hub was rather hard to tidy. The whole design of the room consisted of playing with light and darkness as they so choose. That made it very difficult to see things like dust or finger marks though they hadn’t worried about it much. They wiped down the surfaces as much as possible but they had never received guests who would judge their cleanliness anyway. No one had ever visited them.  Not even the Twin Heroes knew where they lived.

Knoll decided to start with the most obvious source of mess: Lyon’s chair. It was always jam-packed with Sol and Luna merchandise. Knoll wasn’t quite sure where he got it all. Alongside the numerous styles of cuddly toys and dolls, there were figurines, comics, cushions and stickers everywhere. This fan nest, which was really the only way Knoll could describe it, was the most colourful thing in the room, possibly the base if you didn’t count Lyon’s Magvels’ Mightiest bedcovers.  The bright reds and blues were almost violent to behold amidst the dimness of the central hub. Knoll began to rearrange the many stitched faces and little plastic pieces of weaponry. He put the Sol plushies on one side and the Luna ones on the other. The cushions went at the back and the figurines got moved to the coffee table where they wouldn’t be damaged. Knoll was considering giving them all a hoover, when he suddenly spotted a very familiar business card. Picking it up, he felt a swooping sensation somewhere in the vicinity of his chest. 

The Blackstone Welfare Clinic! How could have he forgotten? The card even said they had experts to talk to and a friendly chatline. He took his phone from his cardigan pocket and rang the number on the back of the card. After a moment or so of dialling, he received an automatic message in an aloof female voice.

_The number you are calling does not exist. Please try typing the telephone number again or if this problem persists, contact your service provider._

Frowning, Knoll checked the number he’d dialled. Yes, it was exactly the same one as the card had.  Perhaps a misprint? Grabbing his tablet, he knew he needed to find out the real number. He wasn’t giving up on his chance to talk to someone just because of one faulty business card. This was his chance, and probably his only one at that. He opened up a new tab atop a recipe for rocky road and searched for the welfare clinic, typing in the full name and… Nothing

He added ‘Magvel’ to the search. He had been shown a few paving companies and masons from the Tellius District in his initial search so if he was more specific…

Still nothing.

He checked the online telephone directory. He scrolled through a local business registry. He found a somewhat dubious list of known medical establishments in Magvel.  Sinking to the floor with his tablet clutched in both hands, he allowed the business card to drop uselessly to the floor. It didn’t exist. How could the clinic not exist? Why would a company that doesn’t exist have a business card? He tried ringing again and got the same automated response. He scowled at his phone. Great, another thing that made no sense! He had been hopeful for a glorious few minutes and now he was alone again with a distraught Lyon and a lorry load of worries.

Knoll sat in his chair and curled up, leaning against the side. He missed university. He never went to any lectures with any other students but he got to see Saleh once a week, if not more, so it felt like he was having a lot of interaction. He considered ringing Saleh and asking him what to do. However Saleh had other friends and no doubt didn’t want to spend all his time with him… Knoll would hate to disturb his weekend. He lay there feeling useless. This must be how Lyon felt in his lethargic stages. It was horrible, the poor man… Why couldn’t he do something about this! Something, anything, just… Lyon was in so much pain. He would do anything for a way out of this, any means at all. He wondered if Lyon thought the same.

\----

“You look exhausted.”

Saleh was right. He hadn’t slept since Thursday evening and was running purely off worry and caffeine. However it was now Tuesday evening and Knoll would eat his own socks rather than miss a promised appointment. Talking of socks, in his sleep deprived state he hadn’t managed to find a matching pair.  One was a sensible navy colour and the other was a Sol themed sock of Lyon’s. They were both blue but what had he been thinking? At least everything else he had on was fairly respectable. His loyal cardigan served to cover up how ruffled he looked and the shadows under his eyes could be blamed on the knitted hood.

“You do not have to attend this society with me,” Saleh commented, “It is not essential, and we may talk another time. Do not wear yourself out on my account.”

“No,” Knoll murmured, “Please, I wish to be out of the house. “

“Would you like to talk later?” Saleh started up the car but kept his gaze fixed upon Knoll.

“Yes I’ll…help you later, I promise,” Knoll muffled a yawn, “If it’s not too much to ask, may we stop at a petrol station so I may buy myself a drink?”

“Of course,” Saleh glanced back to check if Myrrh was strapped in properly, “However, if you don’t mind, I believe we should talk about you first of all.”

After that rather ominous note, Saleh said little else on their journey even as they stopped to get a drink. Knoll felt as if he had both Saleh's and Myrrh’s eyes upon him for the entire journey. This was of course impossible, because Saleh was driving, but still… He felt judged. Saleh would think badly of him because of his unmatched socks, scruffy hair and the dark bags under his eyes. The hood covered enough but he hated making a bad impression in front of Saleh. He’d probably never invite him out again! He probably had seemed too uncouth and desperate… Really, why had he begged to be let out the house like a dog who wanted a walk? Saleh would think he was unhappy in there and that would look badly on Lyon! He’d have to be on his best behaviour from now on so Saleh didn’t think too badly of him.

He tried. Though his exhaustion-muddled mind he tried his hardest to look like a model citizen and a respectable friend to be seen with in public. He tried not to blink too much in the bright lights of the community hall. He tried not to wince at the insultingly bright tablecloths or under the stares of the numerous parents about. He stuck close by Saleh as they watched the decoupage tutorial and was happy that they had a table to themselves to work on, even if they had to make trips back and forth for materials. There was however free tea and coffee, which Knoll tried to greet with contained enthusiasm so he didn’t look like he had become dependent on hot beverages. Instead he busied himself with small bits of paper and PVA glue.

“Hello Country Mouse!”

Knoll was startled whilst choosing what to decoupage by a loud female voice and a lot of jingling. He turned to see a woman with long red hair embrace a rather uncomfortable looking Saleh. She was a carnival of colour, with her baggy trousers and crop-top sporting a vibrant array of reds and pinks.  The jingling came from her many rainbow bangles, round both her wrists and ankles. There were even golden bells on her earrings.   He noticed she was getting a lot of dirty looks from the mothers about the room. Who was she? What relation was she to Saleh?

“Please, Tethys… you are suffocating me excellently. Please let go.”

She let go and turned to inspect their little group. Knoll noted she wore bright red lipstick and a large smile. Before she could speak however, Saleh intervened.

“Knoll, this is Tethys, we met through a friend. She is in a relationship with Gerik, the one I mentioned after my phone turned his name to gerbil. She has a little brother named Ewan, undoubtedly that is why she is here.”

He turned to Tethys, seemingly to introduce Knoll to her, however Tethys got there first.

“You move fast Saleh,” she chuckled, “I never would have expected it of you. Where did you meet, the library?  She stepped a little closer to Knoll who suddenly felt rather pressured despite the metre or so between them.

“He was my tutor at university,” Knoll corrected. He had the distinct impression she was hinting at something that wasn’t the case. He had seen enough cheesy romcoms in Lyon’s down phases to know what might be happening here, but he couldn’t accuse someone of doing that in real life.

“Ah,” Tethys flicked her hair back with a jangling of bracelets, “Student-Teacher romance, how risqué.”

“That is not the case,” Saleh said hastily, “We are merely friends. How are Gerik and Marisa?”

“Oh they’re fine. Gerik wouldn’t touch this place with a curtain pole so he’s out at the gym and Marisa’s doing groceries. Ewan needs to spend more time around actual kids so I thought this place would be fun. Didn’t know you’d be showing up though.” She talked very quickly and gesticulated a lot. Knoll wondered what she for a living if she wore that. Was she in some kind of show and hadn’t had the chance to change after work?

As she kept glancing at him, Knoll thought she didn’t look entirely convinced that they weren’t a couple, however Knoll was sure Saleh would dissuade her of that notion. Myrrh tugged on his sleeve and drew his attention back to the decoupage as Saleh and Tethys talked. Knoll decided it was best to let Saleh talk to his friends. He was trying to be a model companion after all. It was more important that Saleh spoke to the people he liked more and knew better. Instead, he helped Myrrh choose what she wanted to decoupage. They considered a door hanger for a while, however Myrrh took a liking to a tiara and they took that back to the table with them as well as a set of three bangles.

They started their decoupage together and Knoll just about managed to keep up conversation with Myrrh through his haze as they discussed colours and patterns for their little projects. He helped Myrrh locate aprons and together they decided to punish Saleh for being distracted by giving him the floral apron with cutesy rabbits on. Myrrh seemed happy enough and Knoll hoped he was doing a good enough job of making sure she was alright. He got her a drink of orange squash and helped her pick out all the colours she wanted from the trays up front. By the time Saleh had returned, they had started gluing.

“My apologies,” Saleh said, accepting the bunny apron without comment, “I have not seen Tethys lately since she started performing in the Elibe district. She often has to stay there for it is an inconvenience to travel via the trams every day and they do not function on weekends.”

“It’s fine,” Knoll replied, “We just got started.”

Myrrh presented Saleh with her tiara ideas and they got started on what was apparently going to be the best tiara in the room. Knoll couldn’t help but think of the circlet Lyon wore on his missions. Lyon would make wonderful things if he was here.  He would decorate these bangles for Lyon in his absence; perhaps he would appreciate them if Knoll reminded him of his beloved heroes. First of all though, he needed a drink...

 “You’ve had quite a lot of coffee haven’t you?”

Just over an hour of crafts and three cups later, Knoll turned to see a woman with long blond hair standing beside him. Despite the weather, which was decidedly chilly, she was wearing a long flowing white dress with layers that seemed no thicker than Clingfilm... The symbol of Latona hung about her neck on a golden chain. Oh dear, a clergywoman. Knoll hoped she hadn’t seen him on the rooftop the other day, though if she had, he’d probably be in prison.

“Sorry Miss,” he murmured, “I can pay for it if you want.”

“It’s fine,” she smiled at him, raising the fresh jug to pour him another steaming mug full, “You look like you need it. Has the week so far been unkind to you?”

“Something like that.”  Knoll couldn’t help but wonder why she was talking to him. They had never met each other and quite frankly he looked a dreadful sight. He wouldn’t approach himself if given that bizarre opportunity. He supposed she did seem like an organiser and therefore maybe she had to talk to everyone.

“I’m Natasha by the way, Sister Natasha of Rausten Cathedral.” She offered him her hand. He took it with hesitance, letting go very quickly.

“I’m Knoll, just Knoll.”

“If you don’t mind me asking…” Now she was being hesitant. This must be the reason why she was conversing with him.

“Did you go to Serafew Primary when you were younger?”

Knoll blinked at her. He wasn’t awake enough for this. He didn’t recognise this woman at all so either she had grown up and changed a lot or he really was far too tired.

“Yes I did. I presume you did as well Sister Natasha. Forgive me for not remembering your face.”

“That’s alright,” she sounded a little more eager now, “I was just wondering, I thought I’d seen you somewhere before. Didn’t you leave a month or so before the Spring holidays in our last year? Where did you go?”

“Yes,” Knoll replied, she clearly had a good memory for details, “Yes, I had to leave. Family matters. I ended up being home schooled after that.”

“Ah I see.” Natasha was looking over his shoulder. Knoll turned to see Saleh was staring at them from the glitter table.

“I hope to see you next week,” Natasha said with a small smile, “We’re painting pottery then.”

“That sounds good.” Knoll was very glad when she put the coffee pot down and wandered off in the other direction. He took his coffee back to the glitter table where he found Saleh and Myrrh puzzling over the bracelets he’d made. He frowned at them, wondering what was so confusing. He had applied decoupage to three cardboard-like bangles. The intention was to give them to Lyon as a gift so he had made one bangle red, one blue and the one in the middle purple. He had managed to make the Sol and Luna symbol out of glitter and it seemed that was what Saleh and Myrrh were befuddled about.

“What’s the matter?” he asked.

“How did you construct this?” Myrrh asked, pointing at the glitter trail on the blue bangle.

“I waited for them to dry then painted on the pattern in glue before applying glitter,” Knoll explained. He noted that Myrrh had covered her tiara in more red and gold scraps of tissue paper.

“I can show you how,” he offered. Myrrh nodded enthusiastically and handed him the tiara. As soon as Knoll touched it his hands were covered in glue.

“I think this needs to dry first,” he commented, gently putting it back on the table, “I could show you on a piece of paper?”

As he looked round for a suitable piece of paper or card, Saleh gently picked up the soggy tiara between two fingers and balanced it on his other hand. He turned his back to the other tables, an action that drew Knoll’s attention. What was he doing? Scrap of card in one hand, Knoll watched as Saleh raised his other hand, close to the tiara, but not touching it, and… Oh gosh.

Fire. There were tiny flames about Saleh’s hand as if he had constructed a glove of them. If Knoll hadn’t really being looking he would have missed them yet as he trod closer, yes, there were minuscule flames about Saleh’s bare hand and they were clearly hot enough to dry the glue on the tiara. He had powers. Saleh had superpowers!  This was extraordinary. Why hadn’t Saleh ever told him before? He’d told Saleh he had powers when they were at university together, so why hadn’t Saleh told him?

“That is what I wished to talk to you about,” Saleh said softly as he handed Myrrh back her tiara, “I am not sure how it happened however I have been experimenting since my discovery on Saturday. It seems I have developed some sort of ability.”

“You have,” Knoll replied, the card had fallen from his hand in shock, “It’s… we can talk about it later. I can help you. I’ve helped someone who has just come into their powers before.” He didn’t know why his heart was racing. For a moment he considered he may finally have had too much caffeine.  Perhaps it was just shock though. Saleh must be a very late bloomer if he had only just come into his abilities. Most superpowers developed in adolescence alongside bodily changes. He and Lyon had been very unfortunate in getting theirs earlier than that but Saleh was definitely getting his very late. Knoll wondered what had triggered it. There was always a trigger for unlocking powers, usually something to do with the power itself. Had Saleh set himself on fire? He’d ask later.

He showed Myrrh how to make glitter patterns on her tiara. The last time Knoll had been this covered in glitter it had been when he and Lyon had hidden in a rather eye-opening night club. They’d stayed there for an hour or so, tried a few new drinks and Lyon had disappeared for a little while after saying something about a show. The police had never found them in the end so he counted it as a successful venture. Not that he should consider such things with so many children around, they couldn’t read his mind but… Well he wasn’t entirely sure whether Myrrh could read his mind or not because she always seemed like she was examining him. Better not think too deeply into that, being tired did lend itself to paranoia in most cases.

Knoll was dead on his feet by the end of the evening, however he had promised to talk to Saleh about his superpowers once they were finished. New powers were exciting but he was slowly losing the ability to do anything more than talk. He hoped Saleh wouldn’t want to experiment straight away. He didn’t think he had the energy to make any magic happen tonight. He was struggling to climb into the car but he didn’t want Saleh to see so he sort of gave into gravity and fell into the passenger seat.

“Did you have an enjoyable evening?” Saleh asked Myrrh as he helped her into the car.

“I did,” she stated with her odd formality, “Fewer people stared at my wings and no one asked any questions about them. The children were more interested in asking what it was like to have two fathers. They thought it sounded enjoyable. We should go back next week.”

Knoll had been caught mid-yawn as she spoke and made an odd choking sound as he tried to gasp and yawn at the same time. Had everyone thought he and Saleh were a couple?

“What did you reply to them?” Saleh asked as he got into the car.

“I said I couldn’t tell them what it was like because I could not draw a comparison.”

“That is fair.”

Knoll didn’t know what to say and remained in that state all the way back to the luxurious-looking front garden of what turned out to be Saleh’s house. It was a tall white affair with tiled steps leading to the entrance and a black door with an ornate looking gold knocker. It looked brand new and barely lived in, which was most likely the case Knoll thought in hindsight. Saleh’s car, which was rather beaten from miles of travelling from the city to wherever it was he lived, looked very out of place before it on the neatly gravelled drive.

Saleh unlocked the door and ushered them both in. It smelt like new carpet and fresh paint inside the hallway and Knoll almost stumbled in his haste to remove his shoes. He felt as if touching anything would dirty it. It was all so pristine! Thankfully that changed when they entered the living room. Just like Saleh’s study on campus, every single wall was stacked with books, not all of them on shelves either. His collection made the central hub look rather organised. There were piles upon piles of novels mixed in with reference books, the occasional DVD box scattered amongst the clutter. There was a large noticeboard hung beside the television, to it was pinned lists written in colourful felt tip pen. Knoll noted that they had crossed off classic horror films like 'The Woods' and 'Escape from the Twisted Tower'. He wondered if Myrrh was really old enough for such films but then again she was over a thousand years old, she must have seen some horrible things in her time. There were also animated films on that list like 'The Big-hearted Tiger' and a lot of foreign films, mostly Disney. Knoll wondered vaguely which of Saleh’s other friends helped him make those lists. Was it Tethys or Gerik?

“I’m going to bed,” Myrrh announced, as she wound her way round the piles of books with a practiced ease, “I’m going to clean my teeth first.”

“Good night,” Knoll managed. Saleh copied the farewell as he made his way past the sofa, an unnaturally clean confection of cream softness in the very centre of the room. Knoll had the feeling it might have come with the house. He stood awkwardly, wondering if Saleh was going to tell him it was alright to sit down. His legs felt like lead.

“I am going to provide us drinks, please, make yourself comfortable.”

Knoll immediately did was he was told. He was gladdened by the sound of the kettle boiling from a nearby door, which evidently led into the kitchen.  He could also hear running water from upstairs. Myrrh must be brushing her teeth before she slept. When had he last slept? Oh yes, Thursday.  He almost groaned but caught himself as Saleh returned with tea.

Passing Knoll his mug, Saleh sat beside him on the sofa and proclaimed almost at once:

“It is evident that I have gained a superpower.”

The fact he had not paused for a moment seemed to be indicative of anxiety or excitement, Knoll wasn’t quite sure which for Saleh looked as stoic as ever.

“I think you have two superpowers,” Knoll replied into his mug.

“Two?” Might be anxiety, the way he was looking at Knoll was akin to how he has during the day his final paper was in for his PhD.

Knoll nodded.

“I read the official guidelines a while ago. The police have a way of classifying heroes and villains in their system. Every known empowered person has a labelled code. You can be a single hero, with one power, a double hero with two… two is average though most people don’t realise they have two. People with over four are very dangerous, people with five are generally turned into legends, and some reckon Latona was a sextuple heroine. Some of the monsters of legend were in fact sextuple or even sevenfold villains.”

“What is your code?” asked Saleh.

“V, SK two, VMD, VUR,” Knoll listed, “Lyon and I are classed as villains officially, so that’s Villain’s side-kick with two villainous abilities, dark magic and resurrection.”

“And what would I be?” Saleh definitely sounded a little nervous. Knoll couldn’t blame him. Having powers was an incredibly nerve wracking thing. You had to enter a whole new sub-culture of people. Your work and your education had to be wrapped round them regardless of whether you used your powers or not. Add to that the anxiety of blowing your cover or accidentally using your powers and hurting someone… Saleh had also just moved into the city. He should be pretty stressed right now.

“May I see your ability again?” Knoll asked, stifling another yawn behind his mug.

Saleh wordlessly raised his right hand and a small flame, no bigger than a gold piece, appeared above his palm. It grew larger in size, and then diminished, only to become larger again, pulsating like a beating heart. As Saleh frowned at it, it lifted into the air, almost rising to the ceiling before Saleh brought it down and extinguished it. It was rather beautiful to behold and so very curious to one whose powers were mostly death and destruction. That little flame had been created and not destroyed anything… Knoll felt almost sad when the fire went out, either that or his exhaustion was making him irrationally emotional.

“I think you have two powers,” Knoll murmured, “Pyromancy and Telekinesis. I’ve met pure pyromancers before and they tend to burn down buildings in one blast – they have little control. Telekinetics can be very powerful and dangerous if they train up. You just have to learn to…” He yawned again.

“Separate your abilities. It took me a while.”

“I see,” Saleh was staring at where the flame had been. He still sounded a little lost and Knoll wondered if he had become the tutor for this occasion. He’d like that, teaching Saleh to thank him for all the wonderful mentoring he’d done before.

“What I don’t understand,” Saleh continued, “Is why I have obtained these abilities and why now? It is common knowledge that, on average, powers are gained between the ages of fourteen and twenty.” He was right of course. However Knoll knew that by sitting here that the average wasn’t always correct.

“I don’t think age is the defining factor” Knoll wondered if he should dare explain his theory. This was nothing confirmed, merely his own speculation in the wee hours of the morning. However Saleh could find it interesting. Or at least he could find it feasible and not stupid, that was probably the best Knoll could hope for.

“I...I believe powers come with realisations so important you could call them epiphanies.”  He gripped his warm mug a little tighter as he spoke, “That is certainly how I came onto mine.  I suppose yours developed when you came to realise something about your position, I cannot say.”

“Perhaps,” Saleh replied. He said no more leaving Knoll compelled to keep talking and fill the silence. He took a sip of his tea and continued:

“My powers emerged when I was ten which is dangerously early some might say. However it was not under usual circumstances.”

Saleh was watching him now. Knoll knew full well he had never told Saleh much about his powers, only that he had them and that most thought him a villain because of their nature.  Knoll didn’t know how much he was welcome to say. He had only ever explained this once before and he wasn’t quite sure to go about it without sounding stupid.

“Please, go on,” Saleh prompted, “I’d like to hear it. I think… I’d like to know more about you. It would set my mind at ease.”

If it would help Saleh then of course he would continue.

“I was ten,” Knoll repeated, “You...you could say I was a rather isolated child. My mother was single and worked long hours, leaving me to amuse myself alone in the local library or shut myself in my room at home after school. I made all my own meals and took myself to school… I scarcely saw her so, so I would be very grateful if you excused me for what I am about to say next.” Knoll glanced at Saleh in his hesitance. If he explained what came next he might sound awful and cold.  However the last thing he wanted was for Saleh to think badly of him.

“I will not judge you.” Saleh promised, giving a solemn nod over his drink. Knoll took a deep breath, inhaling the odd smell of the tea Saleh had given him. At first he had unquestioningly drank it, but now he thought about it, it was strange and rather relaxing.

“Well, when I was ten my mother passed away,” he murmured, “She was involved in an accident at her workplace. There was a gas leak and a nasty accident occurred when someone lit up a cigarette. A policewoman and a lady from my mother’s workplace brought me the news. It was the brightest spring day I could remember, and I sat and listened to those women so confused as to why the birds could be so loud outside and the sky so blue when I had found myself alone.”

Knoll had only ever explained this to Lyon before. He had done it when Lyon had discovered his own powers, also haunted by death. Their discoveries and powers differed due to one key reason though, related to their untimely event of becoming empowered. It was a reason he was sure he would explain to Saleh in time.

“I’d only known about death in books and cartoons,” he elaborated, “When people died in those the sky grew dark, the weather turned foul, the rain fell as if the heavens themselves were crying and everyone was miserable alongside the bereaved. But when my mother died, life went on. The day was beautiful, the neighbours carried on unknowing and uncaring. She didn’t even get a funeral with a dark sky and people crying. There was no funeral. She had no family or friends apart from me.”

“A harsh way to learn about the inevitable,” Saleh commented as Knoll paused for breath.  Knoll nodded solemnly.

“It was that night I realised death was nothing extraordinary. I was upset but as I stared through the window at the stars and they didn’t go out in mourning, I realised death wasn’t anything special after all.  It affected nothing in the grand scheme of things. I wanted it to. I wanted people to cry with me, I wanted there to be a storm and I wanted the stars to go out. To my surprise, that was when they did.”

“You put the stars out?” For the first time in his tale, Knoll saw something like an emotional reaction from Saleh. He had remained stoic throughout but now he sounded slightly disbelieving.

“I had produced a thick barrier over the window,” he explained, “When I touched it, it felt like soap bubbles, but it was an ominous dark purple substance that began to rot away at the window frame. Curious, I began to experiment. The energy rotted away anything, could block out light, when it touched living things it hurt them but when it touched dead things it resurrected them… those were the foundations of my power.”

“I see.” Saleh now sounded genuinely interested. Knoll was rather surprised. This wasn’t the tone he used to use when analysing reports, also why was he acting revolted like everyone else did when they were confronted with dark powers? Even as a child, he had wondered whether the ability to bring moths back to life and make them fly round his room made him a supervillain. He had done things with his powers that would make horror film makers tremble.

“Am I right in saying that Lyon gained access to his powers in the same way?” Saleh asked, ”He accepted the inevitability of death?”

“Oh no,” Knoll replied, he couldn’t stop the sad chuckle that escaped him, “As seems to be the way with powers, there is always an equal and opposite set of powers to every ability pool out there and if all goes well, they join forces and unlock new potential within themselves. I’ve always believed Lyon was my perfectly partner. Lyon’s powers came early too, when he was twelve.  I was living in his household at the time and was there to witness the reaction.”

“Lyon is of the Grado family. I have read that they the most powerful in the district before their patriarch’s death,” Saleh commented, “So how did you come to live with them? Of course if it’s too personal I will not expect an answer from you.”

Knoll shook his head. He sort of liked being the one to do the talking… he usually just listened but Saleh was being very patient with him. He was rather flattered and felt he owed Saleh answers for his kindness.

“Lord Vigarde owned the company my mother worked for. There was a huge scandal about employee safety when the accident happened. The papers got wind that the victim had left a child behind and Lord Vigarde had no choice to take me in before the press got to me.”

“Of course. That meant you were raised in close proximity to Lyon?”

“We were fairly separate until Lyon came into his powers. Lord Vigarde knew about mine so he insisted we learnt how to use them together. He didn’t understand out powers worked differently... As you’ve said, I gained mine through accepting the inevitability of death. Lyon unlocked his potential through refusing to accept it.”

“Opposite yet equal,” Saleh mused. Knoll nodded and took a sip of his tea.

“Lyon once had a flop eared rabbit, ironically named Ghost. She died when Lyon was twelve. Lyon held Ghost and stroked her in her final moments to ease her passing but when she died, he couldn’t accept it. He apparently started crying uncontrollably and before he knew what he had done, Ghost was back. The first use of his power was resurrection, mine was to use dark energies, though we can both use each form, what we used first has always been our strongest ability. Between us,  the Necromancer actively denies death whilst the Watcher allows death to come to pass …that’s what we were, _are_.”

“You don’t seem very happy about it”

Knoll didn’t really know how to reply. Was he unhappy with his situation? Why should he be? He lived with Lyon now and he tried to the best of his ability to make sure he would never cry again like he had with Ghost. He had already failed that. Lyon was undoubtedly crying at home over his twin heroes and here he was, talking about himself! He was being so utterly selfish just being here!

“I am happy,” he replied, “Lyon is my partner and it is my fate to look after him. So that’s what I’ll always do. I’m pleased to do it.”

He looked down at his own knees and an awkward silence fell upon the room. The entire house seemed to be still and quiet, no pipes gurgled or taps dripped.  Knoll supposed it was a new house so it shouldn’t have any faults. Not like the annoying flickering monitor in the left hand corner at home. He clasped his tea in shaking fingers. He was too tired. He just needed to close his eyes, just for one moment.

“I set fire to a tea towel.”

Knoll was jolted awake just as he began to doze off by Saleh making a sudden announcement.

“Pardon?” he yawned.

“I set fire to a tea towel…” Saleh repeated, sounding a little awkward, “That’s how I discovered I had powers. Not exactly a moment of philosophical discovery I know, but that’s how it happened.”

“I see.”

They fell silent again. Knoll tried his hardest to remain awake but this sofa was ever so comfortable.

“Knoll?” Saleh seemed to have something against awkward silences, Knoll decided as he fought his own eyelids. He needed to keep his eyes open!

“Yes?”

“You look incredibly tired.”

“I...” He couldn’t really deny that. He felt as if he was steadily replacing his blood stream with that of strong coffee but even that wasn’t working anymore.

“Would you like to stay here for the night?” Saleh straightened a few cushions, “I will occupy this sofa whilst you may make use my bed.”

“No,” Knoll yawned, “I couldn’t. I should... should go home. I should already be home.”

Suddenly it dawned on him and he hated himself for not thinking of it first of all. Exhaustion be damned, Lyon was home alone! He had been since nine thirty and goodness know how long he had spent at that society and then talking with Saleh. What if Lyon needed him? What if Lyon had been too upset to make himself an evening meal? What if he had actually wanted someone to talk to and Knoll hadn’t been there for him?

“I should go back,” he said, his voice gaining strength as he sat up a little straighter, “Lyon may need me.”

“I doubt it,” Saleh commented gently, “And in all honesty, you are not in a fit state to go anywhere.” His tone was strict but Knoll could hear the kinder side to it now. That didn’t mean Saleh was right however.

“But he might,” Knoll protested, “And he’s home all alone. What if he needs someone to comfort him? I should go home. If you don’t want to take me back that’s fine, I’ll walk.” He made to get up yet almost at once his knees gave way and he ended up sprawled back on the sofa with his head in the cushions.

“You’re not in a fit state to go anywhere,” Saleh repeated, “Sleeping is not an act of selfishness. Neither is acting on your own behalf for a change. You don’t have to follow Lyon’s wishes every hour of the day.”

“He doesn’t have anyone else,” Knoll murmured into the cushion. He didn’t feel like getting up even if he must.  This sofa was just so comfortable and his eyelids felt like they had been weighted down.

“He doesn’t have anyone else and if I’m not there… it would be like the world is giving up on him. I can’t live anywhere else. I can’t be with anyone else. I’m not allowed to like anyone more than him even if I want to. That would be selfish. I have to help him…even if I want to do other things.”

“Do you want that?” asked Saleh. He retrieved a blanket from the armchair across the room and draped over Knoll’s shoulders.

“Do I want what?”

“Do you want to do something else, to live somewhere else and to partake in the company of another?”

Even as Knoll gave a small nod he said:

“I have to look after Lyon and find-“ His next murmur was indistinguishable as he fell asleep upon the cushions.


	5. Signposts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While tension runs high in the Ne'er do Wells' lair, the sidekick wonders still at the changing ways of his hero. They set off for uncharted territory and a surprise encounter leaves them with a distinct impression of how things really should be done.The T

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for minor character deaths (nameless victims like the chapter before last) and Valter.

 

Knoll awoke to his hair tie pressing uncomfortably against the back of his neck. He found himself covered in a thick layer of blankets and his head propped up on both a cushion and a pillow.  He yawned as it slowly dawned on him that the morning sun wasn’t generally that bright. He pulled his phone from his pocket and stared at the time.  It was the afternoon. He’d slept through to the afternoon. It was the afternoon and he was still on Saleh’s sofa! He got up, disentangling himself from the blankets as he looked for any sign of the house’s rightful occupants. He spotted a folded piece of paper on the coffee table atop a large stack of children’s’ books. Fairly sure that hadn’t been there before; he picked it up and read:

**Dear Knoll,**

**Unfortunately I cannot be here right now, for I have a meeting at the University of Magvel where I will likely be kept all day. I did not feel right in waking you, however I did make you some sandwiches and put them in the fridge in case you are hungry when you awake. You will undoubtedly find hanging round my house alone a little awkward so feel free to take the number two bus, which leaves from the corner of the road and will take you to town centre. There I am sure you can get home from.**

**Thank you for your company and your honesty. I am feeling more at peace with my sudden acquisition of powers. I am grateful to have you as a friend.**

**Until next we meet, be that next Tuesday or sooner.**

**Best wishes.**

**Saleh.**

It would be ungrateful of him to not eat the sandwiches.  Knoll tentatively entered the kitchen and tried not to be too bowled over by the flashy modern fixtures and fittings. He opened the fridge, a wardrobe-sized confection of silvery plastic including a little panel on the front for cold water and ice. He found the sandwiches, neatly wrapped in clingfilm on a flower-patterned plate. Tuna and cucumber… was this a coincidence or had Saleh actually remembered what sort of sandwiches he used to bring in for his lunch? Lyon liked tuna and sweetcorn so they had always had left over tuna. When Knoll hurried off to university with a packed lunch, he always brought tuna sandwiches with him. This was probably a coincidence and he was over-thinking things... Perhaps he just longed too much for his university days. Distracting himself from the matter, Knoll sat at the kitchen table, ate his sandwiches, and then washed up. To show his gratitude he washed up the plates and bowls that evidently been left by the sink to be cleaned when Saleh and Myrrh got back. As he dried up, he decided he should probably leave the house. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome and Saleh had been right. It was rather awkward standing here in someone else’s house whilst they were away. He should go home and see Lyon- Lyon! He had been alone since yesterday night and now it was the afternoon!

He grabbed his shoes and cardigan and made a swift exit, making sure the door did lock itself behind him. He managed to catch the number two bus into town and had made it to the district centre within half an hour. The next journey was spent in a fit of mounting worry.  Had Lyon eaten? Had he slept? What kind of emotional state was he going to be in when Knoll got back? Why had he felt it was alright to leave Lyon in such a distraught state alone in the house? Knoll felt terrible and he knew he was right to. He was an awful person for his neglect.

\---

He opened the door with rather too much force, causing it to thud on its hinges. Hastily closing it, he slipped off his shoes and hurried down the stairs into the central hub.   He would have run straight into their living area, however a sudden stench in the hub almost knocked him back into the corridor outside.

He frowned. Despite the ever-present air conditioning, the cloying scent of decaying fruit hung about the room combined with what was definitely blood.  He covered his mouth as his throat became painfully dry and his chest felt rather heavy as he trod closer to the coffee table.  The off-white glow of the monitors, which illuminated their half of the immense room, sent heavy shadows sprawling across the living area.  Therefore it was only when Knoll approached his regular seat did he see the piles of books arranged about the table. He wrinkled his nose  as he realised, despite the fact each book was in an individual plastic wrapping, they were the source of the smell. 

He held his breath as he peered at the top most volume. He could feel the magical aura about these tomes without conscious effort. Usually they kept anything powerful out of the living room. It was expensive to keep replacing all those monitors when experiments went awry.  Magical artefacts belonged in the laboratory-come-study, not in places where food and drink were consumed. Their powers could only protect them so far.

After checking the surrounding darkness for any sign of Lyon, Knoll inspected the plastic wrappings first of all. The letters M.M.A were printed across every wrapping in large red capitals. There were also silvery stickers bearing barcodes along each book’s spine. With due caution, Knoll ran a finger over the nearest label. The plastic was cool but otherwise mundane. This foul aura was definitely from the books themselves.

In the hope of obtaining fresher air, Knoll crossed over to the central computer terminal. He submitted a search for M.M.A in relation to magic. What he received surprised him, not only because this was those books’ origin, but by the fact he hadn’t thought of this at once.

The Museum of Magical and Arcane Arts was abbreviated only to M.M.A. so not be confused with The Museum of Military Artillery and Artifice which turned out to be in the same district. Whilst Knoll had never been there, the Tellius district was a little too far for him, he had read a lot of articles published by those that worked there.  Magic was how they had classified many superpowers before such gifts were celebrated. Those with unnatural powers used to be burned or drowned as witches, arrested and punished as criminals or even used in horrible experiments by so-called scientists for matters not always based on their powers. The M.M.A held exhibitions and kept records on how ‘magic’ had been used through time. However those plastic-wrapped books didn’t seem like they had been on display. They looked like they had been stored away, and by their dark auras, Knoll wondered if it had been for safety. Next came the question of how they got here. The answer to that was definitely with Lyon.

Knoll left the central hub and entered their living space, just as he had initially intended. He noticed Lyon’s Magvel’s Mightiest door hanger was back on the handle and was currently displaying the ‘ **Superheroes at Work – Do Not Disturb’** side. However the door was slightly ajar and Knoll could hear Lyon speaking from within.

“- understand. I was too fixed on the past.  I know I need to capture the here and now of superpowers… and I will not question your wisdom again.”

Knoll frowned. Who was he talking to? The conversation seemed one-sided so he was obviously on the phone.

“Yes sir, I did it and I have the books from the museum, I’m sure they will prove invaluable to my learning experience though… I’m a little nervous about the other half.”

There was a long pause as whoever was Lyon was on the phone to seemed to give some kind of long talk.  Knoll peeped round the door to see the vibrantly coloured, but pristine, interior of Lyon’s room. Ever wall was covered in framed posters of his beloved heroes. The toys that would not fit in his chair, or were too valuable to be allowed out of their boxes, were arranged neatly on the shelves, desk and round Lyon’s bed on top of the Sol and Luna bedsheets. Lyon was curled up on his bed, tablet before him, phone in hand. He looked like he had been crying but there was a slight smile on his face as he nodded along to whatever the man on the phone was saying.

“I understand,” he replied, “I do sir, and I’m trying my hardest. I’m flattered you think I could pull off such a venture. I’ll make sure I don’t mess this one up, you have my promise on that. I’ve already arranged to meet the Crimson Emperor and the Disciple of Black Feathers.  The Crimson Emperor said my cause was very noble and he looked forward to our meeting. That’s definitely a good start.”

More silence. Knoll wondered who these two people were. They didn’t sound like heroes at all, and even if they were from Magvel and weren’t heroes, he would have heard of them. Anxiously he waited for Lyon’s next response. Lyon was smiling as the man on the phone spoke, he had even sat up a little, and was curling in on himself just as he always did when someone was paying him a compliment. The man on the phone was making Lyon happy… not  a bad thing of course, but Knoll didn’t like this anonymity.

“Oh I will sir,” the sudden confidence in Lyon’s tone took Knoll aback. His smile had become something like a smirk. “I’ve elaborated a little on your excellent ideas. I know how to play the game now and I will do it well.”

Where had this confidence come from? Knoll didn’t understand what was going on. He took a step back as Lyon said his goodbyes, pretending he had never looked as his thoughts were sent reeling. Who had Lyon been talking to? Who was he going to visit? What was this about a ‘game’?

He heard Lyon give a sigh and gently knocked upon the door to announce his arrival.

“Knoll?”  Lyon called. He took that as his cue to enter.

“I’m here.”

“Knoll, I went looking for you this morning and you weren’t here,” Lyon got up off his bed, putting on his slippers as he did so, “I wondered where you’d gone. I thought something had happened.”

“I’m sorry,” Knoll felt terrible. He knew this would happen and he had gone out anyway. What did that make him now?

“It’s ok,” Lyon was still smiling, a good sign, as he said: “You probably heard. I rang up the Blackstone Welfare Clinic yesterday and today… they’re very nice to talk to.”

“I’m glad you had someone to talk to. I will not leave again if you need me,” Knoll promised, “I did not mean to be out for so long. I accidentally fell asleep on my tutor’s sofa and he didn’t feel like he should wake me. That will not happen again.”

Lyon gave a light chuckle that made Knoll feel instantly relieved.

“I understand,” Lyon replied, “It was very hard to sleep after we failed to get the arc… Would you like to come on a day-trip with me tomorrow?”

“A day-trip?”

“Come, I’ll show you.” With that Lyon left his room for the corridor outside and undoubtedly the hub beyond.

Knoll followed, his relief somewhat nullified by yet another bizarre turn of events. Firstly, Lyon seemed to be motivated again. If he didn’t know better, Knoll would say his mood-swings were drug-related at the rate he was having them. Lyon’s moods were gradual and stubborn, they didn’t change so rapidly, even if it was over a few days! Secondly, Knoll had heard him on the phone talking to the Blackstone Welfare Clinic. He had rung them twice and apparently that number didn’t exist. Also the internet didn't seem to have heard of them. As he hurried to keep up with Lyon he tried them again, pressing his phone to his ear so Lyon wouldn’t hear what he was up to.

_The number you are calling does not exist-“_

Knoll hung up. Lyon had just been talking to them! He had seen and heard it. The Blackstone Welfare Clinic existed and Lyon had been talking to them. The only place Lyon could have got their number, as they were absent on the internet, was that card. So why wasn’t it working for him? Was it his phone? Was he overthinking this by feeling it was sinister? They seemed to have done some good for Lyon but that didn’t make Knoll feel any better. He was an expert in dealing with Lyon’s moods, there was nothing he hadn’t tried that the clinic could suggest Lyon do on his own. Besides, it sounded like Lyon had been taking orders from the man on the phone, or was that just advice and once again, Knoll was overreacting. He shouldn’t complain if Lyon was happier.

“Knoll?”

“I’m coming!”

In his dilemma he had slowed to walk so he hurried after Lyon back into the central hub. There Lyon had already loaded up train timetables and a street map on the monitors.

“We are going here.” He lit up another monitor. On it was a building that put Rausten Cathedral to shame with its grandeur and gaudiness. It was undoubtedly a cathedral too, but one so high it seemed to match the skyscrapers around it. The advertising on said skyscrapers, a bit of an advert for Greatfang Toothpaste and a banner for a show-jumping contest showed he was looking at a cathedral in the Tellius District. That made sense since it seemed Lyon had already made a trip to the M.M.A, or at least someone had. He glanced back at the awful smelling books as Lyon gestured at the cathedral on the screen.

“This is Mainal Cathedral,” he proclaimed, “The building with the most power in Tellius despite being a religious establishment. They take religion a lot more seriously there, and they don’t think superheroes are particularly special either. Such an odd district.”

“Half of their population apparently turns into giant animals,” Knoll pointed out, “So I guess having powers isn’t that remarkable.”

“Hmm.” This fact seemed to sadden Lyon. Now Knoll thought about it, he had never seen any big brand name for superheroes from Tellius. There was of course Magvel’s Mightiest, Elibe’s Elite. And Jugdral’s Judgement, Lyon had things from all those ranges with his preferences obvious.  He wasn’t quite sure what the brand of the Akaneia district was but he knew they had one. They had those little figurines that didn’t have trousers. He’d seen people with them on their bags at university.

“Well there are superheroes there,” Lyon continued, “Not just transforming ones either. The man we’re going to see is a sextuple hero and a key religious figure.  Yet, and here’s the good part, he has the same dark energy power as we do. If we are to learn how to make our powers acceptable without what is available in our own district. He is the person to ask. I’ve already arranged a meeting with him. He was exceptionally kind, though he did keep calling me ‘child’.”

“So we’re going to the Tellius district tomorrow to meet this man?” Knoll  confirmed. Lyon hadn’t mentioned how he had found out about this person or what this man’s other five powers were. If he had powers that were viewed as holy, then perhaps his dark powers had been overlooked in favour of those.  There was the definite possibility that the mysterious Welfare Clinic had pointed Lyon in this man’s direction. He had mentioned on the phone two men called the Crimson Emperor and Disciple of Black Feathers. If Knoll had to take a guess, he’d say they were about to meet the latter.  It still didn’t sound like a hero’s name though. Admittedly they couldn’t talk. The Necromancer hardly sounded heroic, though his side-kick name wasn’t bad.

Still, he would like to know more about this man before they met him. Lyon couldn’t randomly go meeting strange men he’d heard about on the phone, it could be dangerous. Especially if this man was a sextuple hero, his powers could be anything from dark magic to summoning abyssal monsters. If he was a sextuple villain, he would be put on the most wanted list immediately for having so many powers. Two double heroes such as themselves wouldn’t stand a chance against him most likely, especially being double heroes with identical powers. Their powers were strong but they would have no hope against someone in control of all their multiple abilities. Lyon had better be sure this man was on their side and would stay there.

“Yes, we’ll have to dress smartly to be allowed entrance to the cathedral, let alone the offices within it. You do have a suit don’t you?” Lyon glanced at Knoll before focussing back on a list of train times.

“Yes, I still have those from…from before.”

“Me too.”

This would not be the first time Knoll would go suited and booted into another district. Lord Vigarde used to throw some extraordinary functions where he would insist his entire family attend for appearances' sake, including the ward he usually excluded from such matters. Knoll had been twelve when he had been given his first suit, matching the eight year old Lyon’s of course. From then on he had nine years of matching suits to endure. Even after Lord Vigarde’s second death he had thought it wasteful to throw away the very expensive wardrobe he had been provided for such events. None of his other clothes were designer and he tended to ignore the expensive suits with their fancy bags on hangers. Yet if Lyon thought that was required, they would match once more. It at least was better than his sidekick outfit and Lyon wasn’t going to get a cold from those shorts. He did wonder if Lyon’s suits would still fit him however. He had lost a lot of weight during recent years, however much Knoll baked for him. The suit belonging to his eighteen or nineteen year old self may be too big for him.

“Also we’ll have to wear these.” Lyon opened up a drawer beneath the keyboard in front of him and pulled out a package wrapped in brown tissue paper. He revealed two new superhero masks, the flick-edged masquerade style they usually wore, but in a formal black. Superhero masks to match suits…

“Only when we get there right?” Knoll asked. They would look a sight on the trains wearing these and suits,

“We won’t be warping, so I think that’s wise,” Lyon replied, “We’ll get the number twenty three bus to the district centre and then walk to the station from there. We can pick up breakfast on the way.”

“There is a lovely ice cream place in town that does pancakes and waffles,” Knoll suggested. They would look a bit funny in there wearing suits and it was a little unhealthy. However they both managed to eat everything Knoll baked without issue and Lyon still lost weight…

“That sounds great!” Lyon smiled, clapping his hands together as he turned his desk chair towards the centre of the room.

“I’m going to do some reading,” he announced, getting up and heading to his hanging chair, “You’re welcome to join me.”

It took only a moment for Knoll to realise what exactly he would be reading. He took the invitation and retreated to the coffee table. However he was more interested in why Lyon had taken a lot of books from a museum than in what those books contained. He needed to find a way to approach the subject without sounding too accusatory. He couldn’t imagine Lyon had any ill intentions but theft was thefs and those didn’t smell like the sort of books any institution would willingly lend out.

“These books,” he began, “Are they from the Museum of Magical and Arcane Arts?”

“Yes,” Lyon said simply, picking up the first book off the top of the pile and ripping off its plastic wrappings as it were the paper about a present.

“They’ve got a powerful magical aura about them,” Knoll tried, taking a seat in his own hanging chair.

“Yes, they’re a collection of books by powerful dark energy users,” Lyon explained, “I bet our study has a magical aura too.”

He still wasn’t explaining how and why he had them. Perhaps Knoll needed to be a little more direct.

“Did you steal them?”

Lyon looked up at him, having just opened the first foul book.

“They weren’t going to give them to me and I’m not going to let their prejudices dictate how I could be,” he replied, a surprising amount of seriousness in his tone, “Without the Demonicon we need these to make a difference. This theft will only cause good things.”

So he had and by the sounds of it, Lyon didn’t regret it one bit. Knoll had to wonder how he had managed such a robbery all by himself. Their warping was a result of combined power, an extra ability often formed when two empowered people joined their forces. He couldn’t have got to the Tellius district or even the museum that way.

“Besides, I’m only following in their footsteps,” Lyon added, “They stole these books from other districts thinking themselves superior, lots of these texts are from our district. In a way I’m saving them.”

“That doesn’t mean stealing them is right,” Knoll pointed out, “It’s something a villain would do.”

“Well we’re unconventional heroes, you’ve said it yourself,” Lyon flicked a page over, “We’ll just have to resort to unconventional means.”

It was true, he had said that countless times. However the fact that Lyon had actually listened to him provided no comfort whatsoever.  The attempt to take the Arc of Latona had gone exactly like their old missions. Good intentions, well-thought out plans, followed by terrible results and a lot of death and the police being called. That wasn’t strange, however a long list of bizarre things were piling up around it. Lyon’s mood-swings, the non-existent yet talkative welfare clinic, visits to two men who sounded like supervillains and this robbery… Knoll was getting scared. Something big was happening and he was clueless in the wake of it. He usually knew everything that went on in this base, it was why he called himself Lyon’s butler so often, yet his ‘master’ now had a will of his own and secrets to keep.  This wasn’t right. He was a sidekick…his hero was meant to tell him everything.

 “Help me sort these by district of origin, please?”

Knoll wordlessly started unwrapping books and putting them on pile. He would do this, but he would not read them.  He would only follow orders so far. He was not going to partake in learning from crime, he was a hero’s sidekick and he was moral. Yet here Lyon was, smiling away as he piled up Magvellian books before him.  What was more important, the morality of what they were doing or whether Lyon was finally happy again? Knoll wanted to slam the book he was holding onto his forehead. Lyon’s happiness had always come first. He had made that promise to Lyon’s father aged sixteen. He would help Lyon and preserve his happiness no matter what.

“Knoll, I think that one’s from Elibe.”

He put the book on the pile with an air of resignation.

The following day, Knoll ironed his and Lyon’s suits and shirts whilst his hero was in the shower. He stood in the central hub in his pyjamas, glaring at the neatly stacked piles of books, one of which Lyon had taken with him last night as a twisted form of bedtime reading. He’d also been on the phone to the welfare clinic, Knoll had heard him talking animatedly throughout the evening to whom he could not tell. He missed it when Lyon used to talk that passionately around him.  He eyed the blood-splattered books with mistrust and almost burnt himself on the iron.  Only bad things could come of this and what if he wasn’t sufficient to protect Lyon from them? Did Lyon even know where he was going? Was Knoll’s ignorance only due to Lyon being in the same state? If so he was hurtling blindly into something that could possibly kill him. You did not mess with supervillains and their ilk and get away unaltered.

When Lyon entered the hub to get his suit, Knoll rounded on him, catching him quite by surprise.

“Lyon, promise me you aren’t going to commit any more crimes.”

“Are you still thinking about that?” Lyon picked up his suit and draped it upon his body to check if it would still fit.

“Yes,” Knoll exclaimed, “Something awful could happen to you and the prospect of that frightens me.”

“I won’t commit any more crimes,” Lyon said calmly, “I promise. There’s no need for you to worry. If it makes you happy, I’ll even give the books back when I’ve finished them.”

“That…that would be good.”

Lyon smiled before walking off back towards his room to get changed. Knoll stared at his own suit and knew he should be doing the same. Somehow, Lyon's assurances had done nothing to placate his misgivings. He was scared and the horizon wasn’t looking any clearer.

His fear pursued him out the front door and onto the number twenty three bus. It plagued him on the district centre’s cobbled streets and made his waffles bitter-sweet in his mouth. Lyon, who was watching the Magvels’ Mightiest channel on the parlour’s screens, was talking animatedly about the recent adventures of the Twin Heroes. He was excited by the fact there was a newly allied pair of villains they were rumoured to be pursuing, and a recently revealed new line of Twin Heroes dress up figures.  Knoll had heard this babble of fanaticism so often he kept accidentally tuning out of the conversation. He did his best to nod and say ‘mm’ a sufficient number of times however one rant about the Twin Heroes was much like any other. He was rather relieved when they cleared their plates and set off for the station.

For a weekday morning, the district centre was understandably busy with people walking their daily commute. They joined a tide of suited people passing through Grado’s Arch, out of the district centre and towards the station. They passed numerous coffee outlets offering deals to weary commuters and a shambling line of market stalls setting up for the day. Everything from hand woven baskets to knock-off toys and furnishings were being unloaded from the middle of the road, causing quite the jam. Magvels’ Mightiest had their headquarters along this road, the busiest in the district. They gazed up at the brightly lit screens around the building, displaying the hottest new heroes and villains in town in action poses before showing what merchandise was to be released soon and where to get the next edition of their weekly magazine. Lyon wasn’t the only one hanging about outside, staring longingly at the screens. Knoll gently steered him away through the assembled crowd with a hand upon his shoulder. Hanging round people with good superhero knowledge was dangerous for them. There were a few photos of them floating around and someone eagle-eyed could see past their masks.  They moved on with haste once Lyon realised this.

They passed Carcino Market and Leisure Centre without incident and rounded a corner along the busy road as a police car came screeching past. Paying it no mind, they passed the Pegasus Post headquarters and continued on with the crowd.

“Can you smell something odd?” Lyon asked as he fiddled with his suit jacket sleeves. Knoll took a deep breath and inhaled exhaust fumes and the scent of coffee from a nearby café. He coughed a little as they walked up to the station gates.

“Nothing out of the ordinary.” If Lyon was asking about what he could smell he evidently thought magical superpowers were involved. All energy-based powers had a smell about them, theirs’ smelt of decay and off fruit for instance.

“Are you sure I-“ There was an explosion somewhere ahead, right behind the station. Knoll smelt in then. Something like artificial banana sweets mixed with burnt rubber. Transformation magic, he’d smelt it before.

“Knoll, look!”

There was a sudden screeching of sirens and flashing of red lights from the surrounding roads as police cars shot towards the scene. However that wasn’t what had caught Lyon’s attention. Five shapes in a perfect V formation were flying through the sky straight towards the station. Lyon grabbed Knoll by the hand and ran with him into the main station hall as the fingers swooped in through the station roof. Knoll had always thought the station roof was fully covered and whole, however that changed when Lyon led him inside.

There they were met with a scene of carnage. Commuters were running, screaming. Policemen were shouting. There was smoke in the air and a deafening metal screech as a train… no a wyvern made from a train, reared its colossal head and spat oil at the gun-wielding police officers. Knoll and Lyon took refuge between a pillar and bench where they got an unspoiled view of the metal beast, which screeched again, the man astride it cackling with laughter.

“The Wyvern Lord,” breathed Lyon as he watched with wide eyes, “Just like I told you! He allied himself with the Beastblade and-!” He gasped and looked as if he was about to faint.

The five figures had landed on top of four police cars that had been driven into the station with heavy crunching sounds as their impacts made the cars’ roofs bend inwards. Knoll propped him up but his eyes were fixed on the five new intruders. He should have known.

“Whitewing, the Divine Princess, Marksman and the Twin Heroes!” Lyon exclaimed, “Knoll! Put your mask on!”

“You know we can't help them,” Knoll said firmly, “It’s too risky.”

“No, but we don’t want to be identified.” Lyon passed Knoll his mask as they remained where they were. It had been a long while since Knoll had seen Lyon so excited. Admittedly they were in the same room as his beloved heroes so Knoll was simply glad his reaction was sensible and not inappropriate.  Knoll cast his gaze back to the assembled heroes. A real superhero team lay before them, with matching costumes in different colours, combinable powers, repeatable catchphrases… Knoll had to admire their presence if nothing else.

“Wyvern Lord! Beastblade!” cried the assembled heroes in unison, “Your time is fading, your days are done, in your coming here, we’ve already won!”  Knoll noticed that  Sol and Marksman didn’t look so enthusiastic about the rhyming in unison thing. He agreed that it was cheesy and overdone. Lyon was lapping it up however,  mouthing the words as they continued their chant right to the very end. The heroes cried their names as the two villains, Beastblade having emerged from the shadows of a ticket office, laughed at the display.

Knoll listened to the melodramatic returning speech with little interest. Yes he wanted to be a proper sidekick one day but he didn’t really enjoy the melodrama. The saving people was the bit he preferred, the part that actually made you a hero.

“Whitewing, Princess!” called Sol, who was pointing with his Sun Lance, the most ostentatious weapon to ever grace the district, “Take on the Beastblade from afar and be careful! Marksman, cover us all!” Luna and I will take on the Wyvern Lord. We can out-pace his train easily!”

“So basically warg, attack it, hit with a stick?” called out Marksman, “Aren’t you  at least going to try a new strategy from the dozen’s we’ve discussed?”

“Don’t get your knickers in the twist,” Sol turned on the spot and pointed his spear at the train-wyvern, “I don’t pick fights I can’t win!”

With that he and his sister launched off the police car into the sky above the rearing wyvern.

“Don’t you just want to kiss him until he suffocates?” Lyon sighed. Knoll blatantly ignored this comment and focussed on the fight ahead. Sol sounded different to the Ephraim he had once had lessons with. He was somehow more serious tet more excited, though that could be the role of responsibility he had gained. He hadn’t heard him in a casual setting in years.

“Don’t think you can match me pretty little heroes!” cried the Wyvern Lord, “Why don’t you come here and let me taste you with my wyvern’s jaws! I might even save of a slice of you for myself afterwards!”

“You’re sick in the head Wyvern Lord, and its time to face justice!” cried Luna as she brandished her Crescent Blade, floating in mid-air. The Twin Heroes suddenly vanished from sight, their inhuman speed landing them atop the wyvern before the villain could do so much as cackle. There was another explosion, the blast of which swept the two hiding heroes’ hair back from their faces and made their eyes sting and water with debris.

“We should go,” Knoll exclaimed as they ducked behind the bench. Three more explosions went off in the hall before them.

“We could help,” Lyon suggested, a note of hopefulness in his tone.

“With the entire police force and the Fabulous Five here?” Knoll retorted, “I'm sorry but they think we’re villains, we’ll get arrested or even killed.” They weren’t actually called the Fabulous Five, that was just what the newspapers called them occasionally.

“But…” Lyon peeped over the bench, “Knoll…Knoll, there’s a dog on the tracks! It’s looking for its owner, maybe they were in the train and-“ Knoll interrupted him

“No, Lyon we can’t. I'm very sorry but I don’t want to see you in gaol! You’ve already stolen all those books, they’ll arrest-“ Too late. Lyon had vaulted the bench. Knoll sighed and did the same as more blasts sounded from where the Divine Princess and Whitewing were fighting Beastblade.

“We are just going to rescue the dog and then we are warping out of here!” Knoll cried. His shout however drew the attention of the battling heroes.  Sol turned and looked down. Knoll didn’t need extra special sight to know that he understood who was running about on the floor below. Their eyes met and Knoll fixed the superhero with a glare he liked to think would wilt flowers. The hero merely nodded and went back to hammering away metal limbs to get at the Wyvern Lord.

The moment of distraction cost him, for by the time he returned his attention to Lyon, there were zombies crawling from the train-wyvern’s windows up onto its back.

“Necromancer, no!” he called, “Please, this isn’t our fight, let’s leave!”

He sprinted forwards and grabbed Lyon by the back of his suit jacket just as the aforementioned dog gave up finding its master and sprinted towards the bench they had just vacated.

“Necromancer, please.”

His hero scowled at him and took his hands with the greatest reluctance. His gaze was focussed on the flashes of light that were the Twin Heroes battling above.

“Don’t you need to ring the man we were going to see today?” Knoll suggested to him, “We should let him know we can’t make it. It would be rude to just not show up.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Lyon sighed, “But… next time I am joining in whatever you say, and we will go to the next meeting regardless of superhero intervention!”

“We will,” Knoll promised, “But let’s leave before those zombies cause a panic, alright?”

“Alright.”  He sounded cantankerous, but Knoll had his hands now and they were going to warp.

They focussed their energies upon each other and vanished in a sudden flash. Staggering out of their warp cupboard, Lyon said nothing to Knoll but strode straight through the hub, into their living quarters and to his bedroom with a great slam of his door. Knoll sat in his  regular chair and sighed. They were going to get implicated in this just because of those Twin Heroes and one dog. Lyon’s life would be so much healthier if Knoll could just make those heroes disappear! Fortunately he didn’t have a power that could do that, besides Lyon would probably find a way to get them back again. He was the stronger of the two of them.

He rested his forehead on the edge of the chair just as his mobile gave a solitary beep. He checked it. A text from Saleh loaded upon the screen.

**Dear Knoll. Are you alright? Myrrh has taken to watching the Magvels’ Mightiest programming channel upon the television and they reported the probable presence of the Necromancer and the Watcher at today’s raging station battle. Apparently there are zombies eating the fallen police officers present. Kind regards Saleh.**

Knoll deliberately hit his head against the side of the chair. Police eating zombies! This didn’t need police officer eating zombies on top of everything else! They were meant to be doing some good, that was what this mysterious trip was for. Now Lyon was angry with him, they hadn’t managed to attend their meeting and the Twin Heroes knew they were involved. Not only that, he still hadn’t answered any of all these painful mysteries than only seemed to pile up and grow! This was going from bad to worse and Knoll prayed this was rock bottom. He didn’t think he could take anything worse. He cast an angry look at the stolen books before confining himself to the kitchen, making sure something good could come of his hands, even if it was just shortcake.


	6. Embers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our sidekick and his questionable hero take off for a new theory, a new district yet a very familiar set of woes. Will a fellow sidekick shed new light for the Watcher's viewing or is all too good to be true?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for mentions of mass major character death (FE4 plot line), harmful use of fire, illness and blood.

“I’ve ironed you some trousers.” It wasn’t a traditional morning greeting but it was an accurate one.  He couldn’t really wish Lyon a good morning because nothing so far had been good about it. It was raining. Lyon was angry with him. More books had appeared in the living room overnight. There had also been a long feature glorifying how the twin heroes had dealt with the station incident on the news this morning. Contrary to other people’s beliefs, Knoll did not enjoy weekends, especially when that weekend involved getting up at the crack of dawn to get ready to go to another district.   Not only that, they had to go and visit this ‘Crimson Emperor’ person in their superhero outfits. Knoll was never ready for the early morning, but he definitely wasn’t ready for a combination of early mornings and Lyon in those shorts.

“Thanks,” Lyon took the trousers from him and started at them, “I’ll wear them tomorrow.”

He yawned and tucked his free hand into the pocket of his rabbit-patterned pyjama bottoms.  Knoll frowned a little as he tucked the iron away.

“I’d hoped you’d wear them today,” he said softly, hoping not to wind up Lyon any further. Lyon had not been in a good mood with him since the episode at the station on Thursday. He had heard him talk loudly on the phone to the Blackstone Welfare Clinic for the  last few nights. He was sure that his sidekick name had come up on occasion, though he couldn’t make out much through the wall. He hated the idea that Lyon was complaining about him to strangers. He despised the idea that Lyon would have reason to. He didn’t know what he hadn’t done well enough. He had spent all his time trying to keep Lyon happy and healthy and now… He looked at the bright purple trousers; they were almost the same shade as Lyon’s absurd shorts.

“It’s raining out; you might catch a cold if you go out all exposed.”

“We’re teleporting to the district centre and then getting straight into the car sent for us,” said Lyon, “I’ll hardly even get wet.”

“Still…they may not be very smart for this meeting.”

“Oh, I’ve made some adjustments to my superhero outfit, I’m sure it’ll be much more suitable for formal occasions.” Before Knoll could get another word in, Lyon had taken his trousers and hurried back to his room.

Knoll cast a dark look to the steadily accumulating piles of stolen books. The latest lot hadn’t come in wrappings so he had no idea where they had come from. However Lyon had promised he wouldn’t be doing any more stealing and these books admittedly didn’t seem as tainted as their predecessors. He hoped they weren’t stolen and Lyon had simply acquired them legally, or from that Disciple of the Black Feathers man he’d been video-calling after their disastrous attempt of meeting him. Knoll hadn’t been invited to these conference calls and it seemed that Lyon chose them to happen when he was out or occupied. That of course could be Knoll’s imagination of course. He and Lyon had been acting rather separately of late; they didn’t know what the other was planning, right?

They were going to this meeting together however. The Jugdral district was on the other side of the city and though the Crimson Emperor (who still sounded like a supervillain in Knoll’s opinion) had sent a car for them to pick them up in the district centre, Lyon didn’t want to go alone. It was rare for someone to leave their district so the prospect of doing so was rather daunting. With Lord Vigarde they had been to the Elibe District several times for work functions at their famous theatres, however any other district might as well be another world to them. Each district had its own separate law enforcement agencies and attitudes to superheroes. Just like the Tellius Districts’ disregard for superpowers, the Jugdral district and their Jugdrals’ Judgement agency took an entirely new stance on the empowered. In Jugdral the superheroes didn’t support the law, they were the law.

“That sounds dangerous,” Knoll had informed Lyon, when Lyon had given him a talk on Jugdral district law.

“What if an incredibly powerful supervillain rises? Won’t the city be trapped under an evil law?”

“Well it’s no concern of ours,” Lyon commented before diverting his attention back to the Magvels’ Mightiest channel.

It still sounded dangerous to Knoll. He had done some research of his own and learnt that the superheroes and villains of Jugdral formed leagues and initiatives where many would work together under a unifying leader or council.  They didn’t hide away at all, in fact it only took a search engine for Knoll to discover who the Crimson Emperor was. He was the leading authority in the Jugdral district, having a large, though questionable, army of heroes who sought to purge the district of foul play and corruption. He was a business CEO on top of his duties, having a corporate empire that involved everything from arms and ammunition to the schools local to the area. That was too much power for one man. If he turned out to be a supervillain… Knoll didn’t want Lyon taking advice from, or going to, Jugdral. His actions were getting dubious as it was. Knoll had dithered as much as he could before telling Saleh everything via email. That was yesterday and he hadn’t got a reply yet. Perhaps Myrrh had taken over the computer for Neopets.

“What do you think?” Lyon exclaimed as he came back into the central hub once more.

Knoll turned away from the ironing board. Well, it was certainly in more sensible colours… Lyon’s new superhero outfit contained a lot more black than it had done previously. He had swapped his purple shorts for black ones patterned with ornate golden flowers. Instead of his little purple cape he now wore a high-collared coat that swirled about him like the cloak of a bad guy from a Saturday morning cartoon. His tunic and boots remained the same however, and Knoll hated to admit this, he looked a lot more like a villain now.

“Well?” Lyon prompted.

“It’s a lovely design,” Knoll managed, “They’re very well made.” _They make you look like a villain’s fan service accomplice and I don’t like it_ went unspoken.

“Thank you.” Lyon looked happy, Knoll told himself. Did it really matter that he dressed like that if he was happy? Did it really matter that he had stolen those books if they made him feel better?  If these things made him happy when Knoll couldn’t… Perhaps he should stop being so judgemental and focus on the bigger things in life… like their meeting maybe. It didn’t sit right with him and as his tablet pinged to let him know he had an email, he hoped it wouldn’t sit right with Saleh either. He checked it however it was just spam. He hoped Saleh would get back soon. He needed to know whether he was over-reacting or not and a second opinion from an unbiased source would work wonders on his mood.

He went and retrieved his own sidekick outfit where he had last flung it and got dressed.  Slipping on his mask he cast himself a disapproving look in the mirror. It wasn’t just the outfit this time though. Even under the mask you could tell his sleep had been fitful and his days full of worry. If he wasn’t careful he was going to start aging prematurely.  He wasn’t pretty and delicate like Lyon…just somewhat delicate. If he had Lyon’s weight-loss he would probably look like a skeleton not some fairy creature in too small shorts. His hair needed a cut…his ponytail was now halfway down his back… He put his hood up so he didn’t have to see it and scowled at himself before leaving the room in a clinking of holy water flasks.

Lyon was waiting for him in the warp cupboard, bouncing on his feet in barely-contained anticipation. Knoll took his hands ready to warp and a moment later he found himself in the pouring rain in the district centre. As Lyon let go, Knoll glanced upwards at the sign of a fashion boutique proclaiming it to be called ‘Forme de la Mort’ as it creaked from its pummelling by the wind and rain. He was soon distracted by the large black car that pulled up beside them and honked its horn.

“That’s for us.” Lyon opened the door and got in without question, sliding over the expensive looking leather seats to allow Knoll to enter via the same door. With trepidation, Knoll got into the stranger’s car. As soon as the door was closed, any and all sound made by the wind and rain disappeared. After the adjustment and click of seatbelts, not a sound was made within the car, even by the driver, who kept her cap low over her face as she wordlessly pulled out of the parking bay and through Grado’s Arch onto the main road. Lord Vigarde’s drivers had all been male so a female driver was somewhat intriguing but Knoll kept his curiosity to himself and merely sat there as the thrum of the engine provided the only relief in this tense silence.  Lyon was pressed against the window as if he had never seen the outside world before. They hadn’t even left the district yet and he seemed mesmerised by the passing cars and shop fronts.

How much did Lyon get out of the house? Knoll couldn’t help but wonder as they passed the station, which was clearly running, but in need of some repair.  He went swimming every Friday, Knoll knew that because he always found Lyon’s swimming things in the laundry.  However it was Knoll who went to the shops, sent any post, or picked up any groceries that they’d failed to order. Lyon only shopped online judging by the number of packages they got, so he didn’t even go to the look at the Magvels’ Mightiest toys you could buy at the district centre shops. He needed to encourage Lyon to get out a bit more. Perhaps they could go to the cinema instead of waiting for Netflix to give them new films. Maybe they could go the park near Serafew Primary… would Lyon like to feed the ducks on the lake? Knoll thought he might enjoy that.

Knoll couldn’t fault Lyon when they entered a new district however. He too found himself glued to the window as the elegant looking buildings of the Elibe district passed by. He thought he saw, though that could simply be his over-excitement, the road leading to the Etrurian Pleasure Complex, the area of the district dedicated to theatres, concert venues and fine dining. That must be where Saleh’s friend Tethys was working. Elibe’s theatres were rumoured to be the best in the city, Knoll had been to a few with Lord Vigarde but those had been family friendly pantomimes… He wondered if Lyon would like to go to a play some time. 

It seemed to be raining heavier over this district for it became increasingly harder to stare out the window as the windows were blurred with the torrential downpour. Knoll thought perhaps he saw the famous flying Pegasi statue outside Elibe’s Head Police Offices, but could have been anything, he didn’t even know whether they would pass the police offices.  He had no idea what route they were taking. He did notice some chain stores as they got caught in traffic in what must be the district centre. There must be some similarities between the districts, more than just some branches of Burger Ballast, but Knoll had yet to see them due to the horrid weather.

It took just over two hours to get through the Elibe District, despite keeping to main roads and taking, according to the radio which was switched on mid-jam, was the fastest flowing route. The radio had been switched off as they passed two grand signs saying ‘Welcome to the Jugdral District’ and they stopped at the petrol station just beyond the border. The driver got out and returned with a bag full of sandwiches, two packets of which were tossed into the backseat for them. They ate gratefully, however they were too focussed on the district they’d never laid their eyes on before to pay much attention to their food.

The buildings in the Jugdral district looked…old, for want of a better world. There were fewer glass fronted office towers, less shiny plating about the skyscrapers. They were somehow grander and more intimidating with their black stone-effect panelling and real stone pillars about the entrance ways. The district centre was ornate with beautiful arched walkways and black and gold railings decorated with flowers and vines made of wrought iron. It looked pristine, almost brand new, yet the style was older and grander than the modern centre of Magvel.

They pulled up outside the tallest skyscraper, a marble-clad affair with grand steps and a selection of flags along the driveway to symbolise city unity. The driver opened the door for them and they stepped onto a gold carpet that had been laid out for them, two security guards with umbrellas flanked them to cover their heads until they were inside.  Knoll was rather bowled over by the grandeur. Yes he remembered Lord Vigarde’s functions but they weren’t really guests at those, more like attractions for the guests who found children in suits adorable. 

They were swept into a large reception area and directed to sit in a small lounge-like area to the right of the desk. There was a television showing the district news and a water cooler standing beside the large leather chairs. Knoll felt very out of place in his horrible sidekick outfit. The men and women walking back and forth were clad in expensive suits with an air of sobriety that would best be placed at a funeral. Knoll wished he wasn’t wearing so much purple and that Lyon was wearing trousers. They looked so very odd in this marble floored icon of professional decadence.

A woman with violently red hair approached them her heels clicking against the marble. She pushed back an errant strand of hair from her eyes before surveying them both over the top of her nose.

“The Crimson Emperor is expecting you,” she stated, “Follow me.”

They did as they were told. Knoll wouldn’t be surprised if there was some kind of ornate dungeon in this place for those who didn’t. Everything was far too efficient and organised. There was no litter but no bins, not a single stain upon the carpet or mark upon the walls. The men and women in the officers they passed sat resolutely typing away, not talking to each other, not even looking at each other. Their computers and the whir of air conditions were the only noises coming from room after room of open plan officers. Every employee was like a machine, functional, silent, and hard at work. They got into a lift and rose too many floors for Knoll to keep count.  The floor they emerged on was richly carpeted in red and gold yet they passed larger, less-populated offices. All of these too were silent. This wasn’t natural, Knoll thought. What kept all these people in line? Was it professionalism? Or was it fear? He was definitely a bit scared now.

They travelled right to the very end of the corridor, up to a door even grander than the others. The woman told them to wait here and slipped inside, only opening the door wide enough to allow herself to pass through before closing the door on silent hinges.

Knoll glanced at Lyon, who looked back. His eyes were wide and he had put his hands in his pockets, a clear sign of nerves. They turned their attentions back to the door and stared at it wordlessly until the woman returned.

“The Crimson Emperor will see the Necromancer,” said the woman, holding the door ajar, “His sidekick will wait in meeting room B until he is finished.”

Knoll really didn’t feel this was the place to object. The woman allowed Lyon to enter and closed the door behind him. She turned to Knoll.

“Follow me.”

After thirty minutes of sitting on his own in an abandoned meeting room, Knoll began to feel a bit miffed. He was thankful that at least he had brought his tablet with him and there seemed to be Wi-Fi. He idly flicked through cookery blogs as his chair swivelled back and forth with his need to keep moving. The lady had left him here to wait for Lyon’s return and he was both scared and bored, which was proving a toxic combination for his nerves. The meeting room was huge and he felt very awkward sitting in here by himself. This table could sit, what, twenty people? Yet he was, by himself, reading about cake. Maybe he should check if Lyon had posted any fan fiction recently.

“Eight!” exclaimed a young man’s voice, making Knoll jump and his chair give a loud squeak.

“Meeting Room Eight, I know the first aid kit is-“

Knoll stared at the vibrant burst of colour that had entered the room. A man, possibly younger than Lyon, had hurried into the room cradling his bleeding hand. However his hand, which looked badly hurt, wasn’t the reddest thing about him. He was kitted out in one of the most offensively bright superhero outfits Knoll had ever seen. He was red and gold everywhere and his shorts could rival Lyon’s if not for the fact they actually reached his knees.

He gave one shocked look at Knoll and tried to back out with grace.

“My mistake, I’ll just-“ His hand was bleeding onto the carpet and judging by the cleanliness in this place, someone probably wouldn’t let that slide.

“It’s alright,” Knoll replied, “I’ve got first aid basics on me if you want help.”

“That, that would be great, thank you.” The man, who was definitely a few years younger than Lyon, Knoll had decided, walked over to the bored sidekick and gingerly offered his bleeding hand.

“I had an accident with the paper trimmer,” he said apologetically as Knoll began to pull things out of the pockets of his cargo shorts. He found antiseptic wipes and spray along with bandages and considered what to do.

“Might be better if you sit down,” he said. The boy obeyed at once before offering his arm again. With a practiced precision, Knoll cleaned the injury, made sure it wouldn’t get injected and bandaged it up. He then found a pack of painkillers in another pocket and handed them over. Whilst he was doing this, the boy (he did seem rather young) tried to make conversation.

“Erm…you’re the Necromancer’s sidekick right? You came to meet Lord Brother?”

Lord Brother? So this boy was the little brother of the Crimson Emperor, did that mean he was the man’s sidekick? His outfit was certainly red enough for that.

“Yes, I’m the Watcher, sidekick to the superhero, Necromancer” Knoll informed him as he held his arm still, “However the Crimson Emperor only wanted to see my hero.”

“Ah… I suppose, though it’s probably not very fun waiting round here with nothing to do. I’m A.. I’m Blaze by the way. I’m the single powered sidekick to the Crimson Emperor and I’m his brother… It must be odd, being the side-kick to your little brother even though you’re older.”

Knoll was taken aback at first but he realised Blaze’s mistake.

“We’re not related,” he said hastily, “I mean…I was adopted into his family, but we’re not actually related.”

 “Really?” Blaze gave an awkward laugh, using his unbandaged hand to adjust his mask, “Sorry, you do look kind-of similar… Are you sure the Necromancer is a hero?”

“Yes,” Knoll said bluntly, wondering what on earth this stranger had on Lyon to accuse him of villainy.

“Oh!” Blaze scooted his chair a little away at Knoll’s hostility, “I’m sorry…I didn’t mean to be offensive it’s just…not a lot of heroes have visited Lord Brother recently, most of them are-“

Knoll stared at him in alarm.  Most of them were what? What kind of man was Lyon meeting all by himself, alone back there without his sidekick to assist him? He resisted jumping to his feet for fear of frightening Blaze and making him agitate his injury, however if he found out that the Crimson Emperor was malevolent he was going to go and get Lyon so nothing else could go horribly in their lives. Blaze seemed to have followed his train of thought.

“It’s ok! Lord Brother won’t do anything bad for him. What I meant to say…people who visit him are generally quite power-hungry. I don’t know what they are, but those who want to learn new powers on top of their old ones…seems a little unheroic maybe? His theories of accumulated empowerment are quite radical…it draws him a lot of attention, sometimes unwanted.”

“I see…” Knoll’s nerves refused to settle, “Do you know what this theory is? I would like to know… the actions of Necromancer have worried me lately and I..I want to be able to protect him in case anything is dangerous. In case your brother is dangerous.”

Blaze nodded. He had begun to fiddle with the shirt-like cuffs which he wore about his elbows.. He gave a little cough into his uninjured hand and glanced at the door.

“I don’t think Lord Brother would hurt your hero…however it’s knowing things that’s dangerous and… maybe it’s right you know about Lord Brother… You helped me and I should repay you.” He ran a hand through his hair and gave a nervous smile.

“I’ll tell you,” he said, gaining a little more determination in his tone, “I will. This might take a little explanation though… Have you heard of the Crusaders?” 

Knoll considered his words for a moment, wondering if Blaze was referring to what he thought he was. He could only think of that children’s’ book Myrrh had been reading. It was a legend from the Jugdral district, the legendary crusaders versus the Lopt dragon. It didn’t seem too unreasonable, considering Grado and Latona’s own stories, that these crusaders were superheroes that had become legendary.  Still, how did that apply today?

“Those that defeated Lopt?” he inquired. Blaze nodded eagerly.

“Yes, well, here in the Jugdral district, our powers are inherited down the crusader’s blood-lines, anyone with powers have the crusaders blood in their veins…that’s why I thought you and the Necromancer were related, see?  Ten years ago, a new superhero league was founded, proclaimed to be the new crusaders of this district. They were led by a valiant man, a double hero by the name of Sigurd. I ran away from my brother to help him in his efforts… I’m not proud but the woman I liked… We do silly things in the name of love.” His last words were lost to an embarrassed sort of mumble.

“I understand.”  Knoll put a hand on Blaze’s shoulder in some effort to reassure him, “I won’t judge anything you say. I… think I’ve done some foolish things as well.”

Blaze smiled and took a deep breath before continuing:

“Well it wasn’t a normal superhero league…our enemies made sure of that. We ended up waging a full out war in the city streets.  Gathering heroes from the most unlikely places we mustered our forces against the likes of the Gold Arrow, the villain armies of the Executioner and Suited Thunder… It was terrifying to someone who had been a sidekick all his life. These supervillain leaders were big influences upon the city, Head of Police, Head of the Courts, that kind of big. No one knew how villainy had spread so far. I was almost relieved when my brother asked for me to come home but it turned out…it turned out…” His hands shook as comprehension dawned upon the sidekick sitting beside him.

“Your brother was acting alongside the supervillains?” Knoll gasped, “He’s a supervillain?” He stood up. He was going to get Lyon!

“He wasn’t at first,” Blaze pleaded, grabbing Knoll by the arm to stop him leaving,” He wasn’t but… he offered a truce to the New Crusaders, gathered them in the district centre to talk… yet burnt them all to death starting with the Silver Blade… starting with Sir Sigurd… I saw it happen on the television in my brother’s living room... I couldn’t do anything.” A tear escaped his crimson mask

“He’s a supervillain,” Knoll repeated, “Lyon is meeting a supervillain!”

“No! He’s just unconventional!” Blaze cried, “You see…he had manipulated our army into getting rid of the corrupt head of police and like but…but Sigurd was corrupt too so…so he had to die as well.  My brother knew action was the only way forward so he took it and made the district a less corrupt place…the cost was a lot of lives though.”

He didn’t seem convinced by his own words. Knoll watched as Blaze tried to mop his eyes with his injured hand and regretted it immediately. Unconventional… hadn’t he heard that word enough times. He had said unconventional, Lyon had said unconventional, but what did that even mean? Was an unconventional hero a hero at all if they burnt down an entire army? Was an unconventional hero a hero at all if he stole from museums and sent plagues of zombies on innocent police officers? No, Lyon was good. Lyon had to be good… he hadn’t worked this hard for so many years for his perfect friend to be…turning evil.

“People change,” Blaze sniffed, “Lord Brother raised me… taught me how to use my powers, covered for me every time I accidentally burnt down something important. It’s so hard having a power you can’t switch on and off…”

“I know,” Knoll replied, passing him a tissue.

“I kept hurting people I just wanted to be friends with so…I ended up alone,” Blaze continued, “Yet he was there, always there… he was good, he is good, I know it! He’s the only person I was able to talk to… just like now… after everyone… He’s the most important person to me in the whole world, he’s my brother and I love him… he can’t be evil!”

“I’m sorry,” Knoll mumbled, “I didn’t mean to cast accusations…I was worried about my hero. He’s…the most important person to me, I don’t want to think he’s going to turn evil either. That’s why I’m scared of him being in contact with someone evil… what if he does something like your brother did in the district centre and I can do nothing to stop him?”

“I had those kinds of doubts before he did it,” Blaze said shakily, “Nothing sat right with me anymore. I had said goodbye to my friends… they were superheroes too…called me Blazel all the time because thought it was funny… Lord Brother separated me from my friends at first, made me feel guilty about thinking of them and then…then he hurt them… he killed them…” He looked up at Knoll.

“If life becomes too scary…too like that… I can’t believe I’m saying this… but leave your hero behind! Make sure he won’t hurt your friends or anyone else!”

The effort of saying that seemed to take a lot out of him, for Blaze slumped back in his chair and began coughing into his uninjured hand.

Knoll stared at him for a moment. Never would it have crossed his mind to leave Lyon and he still thought the notion was ridiculous. If he left Lyon then Lyon would be alone, he’d lose even more weight, he wouldn’t take any medication…he wouldn’t cope on his own. Well, he had the Blackstone Welfare Clinic to talk to but could they make sure he was eating and sleeping properly? He thought not.

Blaze continued to cough and Knoll became concerned. He crossed over to the water-cooler at the side of the room and got the sidekick a drink. He hurried over and passed it to him. As Blaze took it, Knoll couldn’t help but gasp:

“Is that blood?”

On Blaze’s uninjured hand, the one he had been coughing into, was definitely blood. There was no way that had come from his other wound, Knoll had washed his other hand in case that was injured too. That blood could only have come from one place.

“You should be in a hospital,” Knoll stated, wondering what he could do with his limited supplies to stop a person’s lungs bleeding.

Blaze merely smiled.

“I know…but it’s not going to change the result… I’d rather be with Lord Brother in this place then be locked away in a ward. It’s not contagious…I’m not doing any harm.”

“How do you know?” Knoll asked, “Have you been to see a doctor?”

Blaze was still smiling. From his slumped position in his chair he seemed strangely relieved. Knoll hated it, but he could perhaps see why. Death was inevitable after all and if you knew it was coming you didn’t have to worry about that…or whether your brother was a villain... anymore

“We’re immune to our own powers but not their effects,” Blaze sighed “I’ve been burning things since I unlocked my powers…just think of how much smoke and how many fumes I’ve inhaled in my lifetime. The grief didn’t help… I was angry… I burnt down all the curtains in my rooms and they gave off the most horrid smell… No wonder my time is coming to an end.”

“Does your brother know?” asked Knoll. He knew he wasn’t going to like the answer before it was even given.

“No…that would make him unhappy,” Blaze replied, “He goes through so much, working day and night…  When he’s around me it’s like a holiday for him. I wouldn’t want to do anything that displeases him.”

“But you’re dying,” Knoll objected, “Also…your friends are gone, you’re lonely and miserable… isn’t it as much a superhero’s duty to make sure his sidekick is alright than it is for a sidekick to care for his hero?” He could hear the uncertainty in his own voice and it was clearly not lost on Blaze judging by how sympathetic his smile turned.

“It doesn’t really matter anymore,” Blaze told him, “Not for me anyway though it would make me happy if you thought about that a bit when I can’t.”

“If…” Knoll didn’t know what to say. Blaze was letting his own health and happiness deteriorate for his hero’s happiness, he was enduring his doubts and fears for his hero’s joy and look what they had cost him…  Blaze gave a horrid cough onto his now-bloody wrist and took another sip of water.

“If…” Knoll tried again, “If you ever want to know what other districts are like…before you’re gone… you could come and visit us. You could have some fun…there’s a nice fair coming in a few weeks… We’d happily let you stay over, I bake nice cakes…”

Blaze laughed before coughing once more.

“Azel,” he choked, “It’s Azel…”

“Pardon?”

“My name,” Blaze said, once he had recovered, “My name is Azel…that’s my friends used to call me Blazel…it was a pun…” He sounded happy and Knoll couldn’t understand why he was suddenly giving out his name.

“I’m Knoll,” he replied, “I’ve never had a nickname.”

“It’s been wonderful to meet you Knoll,” said Azel, “I haven’t had someone to talk to in so long… especially someone as kind as you. I’d love to visit but…I don’t want to leave Lord Brother’s side in case he wants to be with me and… please?”

“Please?” Knoll repeated.

“Please don’t end up like this…” Azel looked at him imploringly, “I don’t mean dying, I mean…alone and scared.  A hero isn’t a hero if he hurts you…but family ties are really hard to let go. Also…I’d be really happy if…if you remembered me. I want someone nice to remember me.”

“I..I will,” Knoll promised, “I’ll always remember you…Blazel.”

Azel burst out laughing and crying at the same time. Knoll wanted to rush forward and hold his hand, or embrace him or something, however the door to the meeting room slid open and the same severe red headed woman was there. Azel clapped a hand over his mouth and swivelled his chair away from the door as she entered. Knoll stood up as he saw Lyon standing behind her, smiling.

“The meeting is over, I will escort you back to reception where a car is waiting.” There was no denying those orders. Knoll got up, eyes on Azel as he did so.

“I…Farewell Blaze,” he said, “It was truly a pleasure to meet you and I’ll remember this, I promise.” Azel merely nodded, still hiding it seemed from the severe woman.

Knoll cast him one last look before following Lyon back down the corridor.  Lyon looked happy but every word spoken in that meeting room weighed heavily in his mind.  _A hero isn’t a hero if he hurts you._  Lyon wasn’t hurting him, just making him stressed and worried…that wasn’t really hurting was it? _Lord Brother separated me from my friends at first, made me feel guilty about thinking of them_ He felt so bad when he went to see Saleh. That was undeniable but that was his fault not Lyon’s surely? Nothing was wrong with Lyon, nothing at all! It was him…all him…

“Knoll, is something the matter?” Lyon asked on their journey home.

“I’m fine.” Knoll drew closer to the window hoping the reflective pane did not show his lie.


	7. Third Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our suffering sidekick has reached breaking point after his warnings from the Jugdral district. Can he decide what to do by himself or does it take a little encouragement from those with another sort of power?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for gore and accusations of abuse.
> 
> If you're enjoying "The Ne'er do Wells" why not check out my tumblr (also Squishymagesquad) for extra background trivia, pictures and soon-to-be comic book covers!

The Elibe district was famous for its theatres, halls and restaurants, most of which were contained in the Etrurian Pleasure Complex.  Knoll had vivid memories of ice cream sundaes taller than he was sat down at the table and the fanciest children’s menus in existence. He also remembered having chicken with sparklers in but he couldn’t remember why the sparklers were there. In all honesty he didn’t need to. However two lines of enquiry had landed him in the Elibe district now and he couldn’t help but wish for sparklers as he waded through mud thicker than ice cream. His boots may be horribly garish but they served even better than wellingtons at keeping this filth out. They could have come to Elibe for a play, or a night out, but no… they were wading through a set of tunnels that lay beneath the city’s underground railway network.  It was remarkable that they were still secret. Perhaps people didn’t come down here simply because they didn’t want to. Knoll could see why.

Saleh was in the Elibe District too, or he had been until this morning. That was the reason why he hadn’t got back to Knoll via email. He had been staying in a hotel where he hadn’t understood how to access the Wi-Fi. He had gone to see Tethys in the show she was now performing in and had taken Myrrh with him. Apparently he’d had to leave Myrrh in a children’s ball-pit and amusement centre because no one had warned him until he saw the adverts in the Elibe district, that “Silk in the Desert Wind” was going to be adult rated. Apparently Myrrh had had a wonderful time in the ball pit so it wasn’t too much of a worry. They had come home this morning and Saleh had replied to his email just as Knoll was heading out. Saleh reminded him that their arts and craft club was today and they could talk when they met up later. However Knoll could call him sooner if needs be.

Unfortunately Lyon had made that impossible by insisting, two days after they visited the Jugdral district, they needed to go to Elibe. More specifically, they needed to go to an underground network of tunnels once used by the city’s superheroes.  When Knoll asked why they needed to go and how Lyon had found out about these, he merely replied:

“My contacts say there is an artefact, filled with the power of a superhero who was defeated in these tunnels that will help me channel my powers like never before.”

“Contacts?” Knoll asked. Lyon had been talking about things he wanted to do ever since they had got back from the Elibe district. These had ranged from ‘I want to get a cheesecake from that bakery next to the furniture shop’ to ‘I want to know how many heroes there are around the district centre’. Some of his queries were just plain odd such as: ‘how big is the lake at Serafew Park’ and ‘I wonder what the colours of the lights are in the Magvels’ Mightiest studio?’ Lyon seemed to have become suddenly curious about everything and Knoll kept doing odd online searches for him, looking up exactly who was mayor of the district, who owned Magvels’ Mightiest, and what was the weather forecast for the next fortnight. He seemed only to be interested in the Magvel district despite his later insistences about going to Elibe. However he was going into an extraordinary amount of detail. It made sense to know about the area who were protecting as its hero, but Knoll was sure the Twin Heroes didn’t know or care about this much of the city.

“Oh, just some people the welfare clinic said I should talk to,” Lyon said brightly, “People like the Crimson Emperor, and they were right, I’ve learnt so much.”

He may have learnt a lot but he hadn’t told Knoll about any of it. At the mention of the Crimson Emperor, Knoll had thought about poor Blaze, dying in that frightful tower whilst trying to keep his maybe-evil brother happy. The sidekick’s words had hung over him like a rumbling storm cloud ever since they had parted ways. Lyon was hiding too much from him and he was scared. He needed to talk this over with Saleh to see if he was over-reacting. However he was quickly becoming sure there was reason for alarm.  If what Blaze said was true about his brother coming up with a theory on how to gain more powers, then Lyon must have gone to see him to learn this technique. This logically meant that Lyon was both power-hungry and keeping secrets, two signs of villainy even without his change in costume and the fact he was talking to a non-existent welfare agency. Knoll didn’t want to believe this made Lyon evil but…

He hated himself for his doubts.

Yet it was becoming more painful to see the good in him with every step they took through these murky tunnels. The low-ceilinged tunnels connected circular bubble like rooms made of grey stone, though the surfaces were mostly covered in mildew and mould. Someone had rigged up electric lighting in here for a series of lamps, best suited for a mine perhaps, hung from the ceiling on wires wrapped in cracked plastic. They worked, but the scum that had accumulated upon them turned the light green in places, making the whole area look like something out of an atmospherically lit horror film.  To say it was uncomfortable to be in such place was both accurate and an understatement.  The glow of Lyon’s torch made shadows leap at them up the walls. They had made each other jump at least a dozen times and Lyon had actually screamed when a train had rumbled along overhead.

“We need to take a left,” Lyon whispered. He didn’t need to whisper, there was no one down here apart from them, not even any rats. Still, it felt like the place you were supposed to whisper in.

“Are we almost there?” Knoll murmured, following Lyon’s coat over a pile of rubble. He hadn’t yet seen any signs of battle. If a superhero had been killed in here, surely there would be signs of a fight. Or was this artefact so old that the traces had faded? If so, would it even work? How would a superhero seal their power anyway?

“Three more turns,” Lyon promised, “Then we get out of this horrible place. There’s a one-way exit near the artefact, it’s how the heroes who killed this hero got out.”

Why would heroes kill a fellow hero? It didn’t make sense, however Knoll knew this wasn’t the time to pick at the details. He wanted out of this horrid place. They’d left civilian clothes in a rented locker at a nearby gym. If they got back there and changed well…maybe they’d stop for lunch at a restaurant to settle their nerves.

They turned into another stone sphere. This one was lit a little better and Knoll saw why.  Opposite them a set of stairs rose on a slight incline into the darkness.

“Oh,” Lyon said, “Well maybe we did all the turns…this is it.” He switched his torch up to its high-beam function and flooded the staircase with light. There were pillars rising alongside the stairs. Knoll could make out what looked like the heads of dragons on top of each. The dragon heads were snarling, exposing chipped teeth and curling forked tongues. Their eyes were focussed forwards straight at the two intruders. Knoll sniffed the air and could smell no magic coming from them. Still, they made him shiver if he dared meet their ferocious gazes. He kept his eyes on the stairs as he followed Lyon up between the glaring heads.

“I don’t think much of the decorations,” Lyon whispered as they ascended, “Neither impressive or welcoming.”

“I agree.” They ascended through the watching heads and up onto a wide stretch of paved ground, the size perhaps of a tennis court. Darkness gathered in its furthest corners making it hard to gauge how far back this room went. Knoll switched his own torch up to high beam as he looked about this new structure. His torch caught a glint of metal and he parted from Lyon to go and investigate one of the walls. Lyon went in the other direction but their results were the same.  The walls of this room contained several heavy metal doors. Each had a grill set into the top, as if they were the doors of a prison cell and someone wanted to view their captives. Knoll stood on tip-toes to peer in, shining his light through the grill the best he could….

“Lyon!” he suddenly cried, his voice echoing loudly round the eerie room. There was a clatter. Lyon had dropped his torch in surprise, but he hastily picked it up.

“What is it?” he hissed.

“There’s…bodies in there….bits of bodies… and skeletons.”  Knoll stepped away from the door. He wasn’t sure whether he was whispering or whether the sight had taken his breath away in horror.  Piled at the back of the cell, for it was surely a cell, was a jumble… a scrapheap almost, of human remains. He couldn’t tell how many had died in there or how much time the cell had been used for. The mouldering flesh was left with skeletons stripped of skin and tissue. If Knoll hadn’t seen more zombies than cats in his life he probably would have thrown up. However he managed to swallow back the feeling of rising bile as he carefully trod to the other door.

His assumption was correct.

“Lyon!” he called as hushed as he could manage, “What is this place?  There are body parts in prison cells, this is not a hero’s lair!”

“I don’t know…” whispered Lyon, “I don’t know what happened here.”

“You don’t?” Somehow Knoll couldn’t believe that. How could Lyon’s ‘contacts’ not know there would be piles of human remains down here if they were sending Lyon to this horrid place?

“No one told me they’d be bits of dead people…they said there might be corpses.”

Bits or whole, there were still dead people in here and Knoll wanted to know why. This wasn’t a hero’s base, this was an evil lair. Why else would it be underground, with mould, darkness, dead bodies and those creepy dragons! Why were they in such an evil place? He supposed a hero could have died here but it seemed that an artefact here would suit a villain better. He stared at Lyon as the ‘hero’ hurried towards the wall opposite the stairs. There was a grander looking door there with no grill and a large handle which probably would have looked impressive once. There was a knocker shaped like yet another dragon. Knoll followed and tried to avoid the pair of brass eyes that were staring at him.

“This is it!”

Before Knoll was even in the next room, Lyon had sprinted across it to a large arch on the opposite wall. There, embedded in the stonework was a black marble plinth, the only thing that seemed untouched by the passage of time. It too was engraved with stone dragons, clearly the villain here had quite the interest. Their open mouths sported a black marble tile where a small book lay, remarkably preserved amongst the squalor.  Lyon picked up a the book and held it aloft in a gesture of triumph.

“This is the last thing I need!”

“Need for what?” Knoll asked, looking about for this supposed exit.

“My plan,” Lyon stated simply. Knoll frowned. More information about that would lovely right now, so of course Lyon wasn’t going to give him any… Perhaps they should get out of this awful place before he started asking questions.  He had the feeling they shouldn’t linger here more than necessary, though perhaps that was just fear talking. Those dragons were particularly foreboding.

“How do we get out?” he asked.

“I was told there was a lift,” Lyon informed him, “Come and stand next to this plinth with me.”

Knoll did as he was told and stood beside the now-empty stand. He watched as Lyon crouched down and inspected the black marble between them. He didn’t have a perfect view but it seemed the carved dragons had captured his hero’s interest. Lyon reached up and delicately prodded one of the dragons straight in the eye.

There was an ominous rumbling. On instinct, Knoll grabbed hold of the plinth as they began to rise from the floor. Lyon had copied the motion. This so-called lift had no walls or even railings, neither of them placed their misgivings about the eerie plinth over the terrifying drop presented before them. Knoll felt Lyon’s hands against his own, gripping at the dragon’s snarling faces. His heart was hammering in his chest as the lift only seemed to accelerate faster and faster, he was sure he could hear the air rushing past and something crumbling in the distance. Lyon had screwed his eyes tight shut, almost hugging the plinth with the book he’d found clamped tight to his chest. Through the light of their askew torches Knoll made out a few hand-written words on its front cover: **_Research Notes for_ **  For what? Was this part of Lyon’s grab for extra powers? However this was the Elibe District, it made sense for the Crimson Emperor’s notes to be near him. So what was this about?

Light suddenly flooded the lift as an almighty cracking sound announced the widening of a hole in what must be the ceiling. They rocketed through, blinking madly as the natural light seared their eyes. Lyon had dared look up at the appearance of the hole and now he lay slumped over the plinth, like someone who had just got off a rollercoaster and was in desperate need of a bin. The lift continued to rise until a large metallic thud sounded. The sudden halt jolted them, making them lose their grip and fall to the ground. That ground happened to be a large flowerbed full of pansies, it turned out they had landed some kind of park... Knoll winced and rubbed his head as a rumbling announced the retreat of the plinth back into the ground.  He could just about make out a children’s swing set in the distance, however his eyes were a bit blurry and he needed a moment to calm down.

“Knoll? Is that you?”

Oh damn… He scrambled to his feet just as a woman’s voice called out to him again. Lyon, who was still sprawled on the ground, looked round just as the jangling of bracelets announced the arrival of someone Knoll hadn’t expected to meet, but really should have considered the presence of.

“Tethys…” he gasped, “I erm…” He was in his sidekick outfit, mask, hood and all.  He glanced sheepishly at the famous dancer, who looked like she was kitted out for an afternoon jog. She had swapped her fancy clothing for tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt.  He wasn’t surprised she was in Elibe, he knew why, however running into her was very unfortunate. She was fixing him with a very knowing smile, like she had somehow thought he was empowered all along and was just hiding it for politeness’ sake. Perhaps he was just being paranoid.

“Does your little brother need some help?” she asked, looking at Lyon was still lying in the flowerbed.

“We’re not related,” Lyon managed as he staggered to his feet, “Thank you though…Miss Tethys… I don’t believe we’ve met.” Lyon slipped off his mask, putting it in his coat pocket. He was able to hide his hero outfit by simply doing his coat up. Knoll wasn’t so lucky, he took his mask off but now he just looked incredibly odd. He stowed the book of research notes into a coat pocket and his torch into another.

“Well you need to get yourself down to arts and crafts club then,” Tethys laughed, “That seems to be the place to be these days.  You’ll even get to spy on Knoll and his new partner.”

“We’re not partners,” Knoll interjected. Tethys laughed however Lyon didn’t seem amused at all.

“If you don’t mind, ma'am, we need to leave to change into something less conspicuous,” He stepped forward, grabbing Knoll by the arm in an attempt to steer him away from the smirking woman.

“Well, you do look like you might be a stripper under that coat, so please, be my guest,”  Tethys gave them a cheery wave as the pull on Knoll’s arm because even more insistent.

“I’ll see you later?” Knoll managed before Lyon tried to sever his arm off only using his nails. Tethys merely nodded and waved as Knoll found himself marched off in the direction of the gym they had left their clothes in.

“I don’t think you look like a stripper,” Knoll managed but Lyon said nothing in reply.

It ended up being Knoll who paid for Tethys’ retort. As soon as they got home, Lyon shut himself in his room. At first Knoll thought he was just changing however when he started sending instructions out via email rather than coming into the central hub, Knoll realised he had retired for the day. He thought he may have heard of him leave his room and go into the laboratory-study at some point but that could have been just his imagination, or Lyon throwing something at a wall. He felt like throwing something at a wall. He picked up one of Lyon’s Sol plushies and thought of playing basketball with it and hanging chairs but then put it back with an apology. It wasn’t the toy’s fault everything was a mess right now. Instead he stared at the jumble of heroic plushies, bent over his tablet as Lyon sent him another list of things he wanted to know. Why all this research and why now? The things he wanted to know where getting increasingly sinister. He had asked Knoll to buy him some night vision goggles and find some blueprints for Rausten Cathedral.  When Knoll has asked whether he had malevolent intentions for the cathedral, he had merely replied that he didn’t _per se_ and could Knoll find out where the Jewels of Jehanna shop was in the district centre.

The more he searched, the twitchier Knoll became. Lyon had sent him such an eclectic range of queries yet it was no use. Every time he tried to see the light, to see the good in Lyon, he ran into another barrier and was buffeted back into darkness and anxiety. He didn’t see any escape, the further he got from Lyon the more he worried, forcing him to return to Lyon’s side. Yet… He felt like a dog on a leash, unable to stray too far but too cowardly to bite through.  He was very relieved when Saleh’s car pulled up that evening. The fact he was waiting for him on the drive was irrelevant of course, but Saleh seemed to notice his gratitude  as he got into the car.

“You look very pale,” he commented as they pulled away, “I don’t expect you to be alright but the question must be said, how are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Knoll replied, “I…ran into Tethys earlier. She made Lyon angry so I’ve been working non-stop all afternoon…I don’t trust him anymore.”

“There is a very dark aura coming from your home,” Myrrh commented, Knoll could hear nervousness in her tone, “I don’t think it’s a very safe place to be right now.”

“We can discuss this more when I’m not focussing on the road,” Saleh reminded them, though his voice lacked any sternness Knoll might expect.  The inhabitants of the car fell silent and remained so until they were parked outside the community hall. Myrrh got out the car first, hurrying on ahead  whether out of eagerness or a desire to leave the men to talk, Knoll didn’t know. He and Saleh followed slowly in her wake after the car was locked.

“You are welcome to rest upon our sofa once more,” Saleh said as they walked towards the entrance, “Myrrh and I have been discussing turning our storage room into a guest bedroom so you may have somewhere more comfortable to li..sleep if you need to be away from your current residence.”

Had Knoll heard that correctly? Had Saleh almost said ‘live’ instead of sleep? If so, that meant he thought it would come to leaving Lyon in the end. Knoll hated the idea of leaving Lyon as much as he rather liked the idea of being round Saleh on a daily basis.  There had to be an option where everyone ended up happy, somehow, even if it seemed impossible right now. However Saleh was right to think he wanted out of the house for a while. That was why he had been waiting for Saleh on the driveway after all. Yet if he kept turning up at Saleh’s house he would become a burden.  It felt like all he’d ever done was run around after Lyon, what good could he be to anyone else?

“You’re very kind,” Knoll managed, “Thank you… I don’t wish to be a burden upon you, please, don’t change your house because of me.”

“You are not a burden,” Saleh stated using a tone that made denial of this fact seem like a breach of authority         

“Neither do I mind changing my house to accommodate you. Myrrh and I have both agreed that it would be good to have you there more often. I would also like to know you are safe. It would…would set my mind at ease.”

Knoll didn’t know what to say.  He stood before the entrance of the hall, hands awkwardly jammed into his cardigan pockets. It was a simple enough idea so why was it so confusing? Saleh wanted him around more. He wanted his company. Yet no one, not since Lyon had first come into his powers, had wanted his companionship in particular. He didn’t think anyone worried about his health. Not even Lyon seemed to take such precautions. Sure it would be inconvenient for him to lose his sidekick but the safety measures he took affected him as well. So no one had worried about him on his own before,  yet Saleh did. Why? Or was Knoll simply overthinking this and Saleh would let any of his friends stay with him if they were in danger? That seemed more likely. He shouldn’t over think this.

“Teacher!”

Knoll’s conclusion was interrupted by a loud cry from inside the hall. A blur of red and light blue struck Saleh round the midriff. Knoll looked up just in time to see Tethys smiling at them, paintbrush in one hand, mug in the other.

“Ewan, try not to destroy the man’s lower regions, he needs those.”

Saleh detached himself from the grip of the small boy, who was quite literally bouncing in excitement.

“Teach, do you have my test results?” cried Ewan, “Did I do ok? I think I did ok.  No, I know I did ok! Tell me I did ok!”

“I haven’t marked your mock test paper yet,” Saleh said, not without a little exasperation, “I have been very busy. I assure you though, by our next lesson, I shall.”

“Ok!” With that, the boy sprinted back into the hall, leaving a rather ruffled Saleh and a laughing Tethys in his wake.

“I…tutor him for his coming school entrance exams,” Saleh managed by way of explaination, “He’s very… passionate about it, I can afford to give him that.”

“You’ve worked wonders,” Tethys added, beckoning them to follow her into the hall and to a table where Myrrh and Ewan sat with picture frames in front of them ready to be painted.  Once again, the parents about them seemed to give their little group a wide berth. Knoll wasn’t sure whether this was because of Tethys or whether the questions about having two fathers from last time had managed to get to the children’s parents. He could see no reason why they should avoid them because of Tethys and something like that, still, people were strange.

Myrrh had decided he and Saleh were painting mugs today. Knoll wasn’t unhappy with her choice, he just wished he didn’t have a seat with his backs to everyone else. He felt like he was being watched. Tethys sat one side of him and Saleh took the other. Both made to talk at once, but Saleh backed away and let Tethys go first.

“So how’s the hero?” she asked in a hushed tone, “Though…if I’ve got my suspicions, not really a hero, am I right?”

“He’s been angry since you called him a stripper,” Knoll told her. Saleh was clearly listening in on their conversation for he glanced at Tethys as if to ask why she had called Lyon such a thing.

“He obviously hated the fact you had someone else to talk to apart from him,” Tethys said casually, though her eyes were deadly serious, “Which quite frankly is not right. The fact he wanted to drag you away from saying hello…on top of everything else I’ve heard from Saleh about him. Anyone that abusive needs to be cut down a few notches.”

“He’s not abusive,” Knoll defended on instinct, “He’s just..”

“He’s wrong,” Saleh interrupted, “Remember last week where you passed out on my sofa? I considered taking you to the doctors as soon as you woke up. You didn’t look like you’d eaten or slept for days. That was out of worry for him, yes? However does he worry for your welfare?”

“No…” Knoll managed, “But that doesn’t mean he’s wrong… I’ve been looking after him since he was twelve…I’m the care giver, he’s not meant to care for me..”

“He’s your hero,” Tethys stated, “Now I may not be a hero myself but I met a few in my time and I’ve read Magvels’ Mightiest since I was like…five. Heroes are meant to look after their sidekicks. “

“I have read it is a mutual bond of trust and support,” Saleh added, “Like a relationship perhaps, or a bond between siblings. When one of the two in the bond decides or makes the other feel guilty for interacting with other people, and produces ill effects upon their health, that’s when it is not a safe bond anymore.”

A hero isn’t a hero if he hurts you… They were sounding like Blaze. Knoll hung his head unable  to come up with another excuse apart from:

“If I’m not near him, he may never take his medication again, he may not eat properly… I promised his father I’d look after him.”

“At the expense of your own health and happiness?” Tethys asked, “At the expense of the city? Because it didn’t take Saleh’s news for me to work that boy was a villain in the making. Give someone like that power and they’ll just hurt more people. I won’t stand for it if I see it and I’m not even a hero… it’s a battle I’ve fought twice already, someone should be handing me a cape or something.”

Knoll felt he had touched upon something very personal here and didn’t really know how to progress from this point. He glanced at Saleh. He must have told Tethys what was going on for the exact purpose of getting this reaction from her. He was going out of his way to take him away from Lyon and his home to the point where he was getting his friends involved, and he was making room in his own house for Knoll to come stay.

“I…I will think about,” he promised, his tone low and repentant, “But I don’t know at the moment.”

“From what you’ve told me, you’re running out of time,” Saleh told him, “We do not want to pressure you but…we are concerned.”

There was a moment of silence at their table, Knoll stared at his untouched mug and picked up a pencil. He began to doodle flowers on the side, not sure what else should go on a mug. Beside them, Ewan and Myrrh were talking about schools. Well Ewan was giving Myrrh a talk about schools, Myrrh was focussing on painting her frame whilst Ewan babbled on.  Tethys picked up her own mug and began to draw stars on the side. Saleh just sat there, seemingly deep in thought.

“This table is looking very glum,” said a new voice. Knoll looked up as Natasha approached with a jug of coffee and a collection of mugs. She had what looked like a folder under one arm as she laid out the mugs and poured everyone a drink. Once she’d done that and put the jug down she retrieved the folder.

“Knoll look what I found.” She pulled out a large photograph which had been wrapped in a blue plastic cover. After having it passed to him, Knoll was able to see what the photo contained. It was entitled with a date of nineteen years ago and proclaimed itself to be Bluebell Class. He looked through the rows of awkwardly smiling small children, spotting Natasha first for her long blond hair seemed very much the same. He didn’t remember having this photograph taken. He didn’t remember much before his mother’s death. However as he inspected the second row from the bottom he saw a familiar face, his own.

“You have really long hair,” Natasha commented, “If you weren’t wearing the boys’ uniform I wouldn’t have been able to tell.”

Saleh and Tethys took an interest, leaning over Knoll’s arms to also look for Knoll as a small child. Knoll pointed himself out for them and Tethys laughed.

“Wow, you’re cute… very Magvellian, purple and pale with that black uniform, but cute!”

“I do look rather like a girl,” Knoll commented, looking at his old shoulder length hair, “I didn’t get a haircut…until I was adopted actually. Though I think my hair might be even longer at the moment.”

“Really?” asked Natasha, taking a nearby seat. Apparently his hair was that fascinating.

“Ah, so its hidden in that hood of yours,” said Tethys, “Well, you’ve simply got to show us now.”

He did? Well…his hair was working as a distraction from questions he had no answers for. He might as well keep this conversation going.  He tugged his hood down. His ponytail now reached halfway down his back so it would undoubtedly be longer than his child-self’s. He hadn’t really paid much attention to it, he had more pressing concerns than his appearance.  He pulled off the hair tie, wincing a little as he realised he’d kept it up last time he’d had a shower. The bit where the hair tie was could be embarrassing.

“Give it a swish,” Tethys laughed. Knoll ignored her and tried to adjust the large amount of hair he had suddenly obtained about his ears. It was embarrassingly long. He really needed to do something about this… He glanced at Saleh feeling a little humiliated.

“I need a haircut,” he murmured.

“Can I plait your hair”? asked Myrrh. She’d got off her chair and had come round the chair to look at Knoll as well.

“If you want to…” Knoll replied, concentrating on his flowery mug very hard. Saleh was smiling at him and he didn’t know why. Natasha got to her feet, also grinning.

“Well, I think we can all do with a few more smiles. I’ll be back round once I’ve handed out drinks to the other tables. You can give me my picture back then.” With that she scooped up her coffee jug and departed for the next table along.

Knoll silently thanked Natasha for her interruption for it turned this evening from an interrogation into an awkward mixture of hair styling, painting and discussing Tethys’ latest show. By the time they had finished, he had lost count of how many braids he had, but merely tied his hair back up in a ponytail to deal with later. You couldn’t see them with his hood up, he’d untangle himself when he got home later. As he contemplated his mug he wondered if Lyon had ever found the bracelets he’d decorated for him. He had put them on Lyon’s breakfast tray after all. This mug was for him however otherwise he’d get accused of never doing anything for himself again.

He was somewhat reluctant to leave the hall after the session was done. He gave Natasha back her photograph as she cheerily wished he’d come back for mask-making and decorating next week.  Knoll got the irony even if no one else did. They had enough masks in their house to be getting on with. He was silent all the way back home, though it seemed Saleh was taking a strange route this time, perhaps  reluctant to let Knoll go back into the same building as Lyon. Eventually however they did pull up on the driveway and said their goodbyes.

“Knoll?” Saleh inquired as he got out the car.

“Yes?”

“I was wondering,” Saleh sounded rather hesitant, “ I received news that a restaurant was opening up on the Tellius-Magvel border so I booked a table there for tomorrow night. I believe it would be an enjoyable evening, and I have something I wish to give you. It wasn’t ready for today.”

“I’m going to be at Gerik, Tethys and Marisa’s house,” Myrrh added from the back seat, “So it’s going to be just the two of you.”

“I, er, that would be very nice,” Knoll replied, slightly taken aback. He had thought Saleh was going to give him some sort of warning. He wasn’t expecting to be asked out for dinner. Did this count as a- No, he shouldn’t be so stupid.

“I can come and pick you up at nine o clock?” Saleh continued, “I think it’s meant to be quite a smart venue but if that’s an inconvenience…”

“I can dress smartly,” Knoll assured him, a little too hastily. Saleh smiled and nodded.

“Well, I shall have my mobile phone beside me at all times in case you need me,” he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yes, see you tomorrow.”

Knoll closed the car door and took a step back as Saleh pulled out and away. The strange bubble of elation he’d had since he saw Saleh arrive on this very driveway had burst somewhere between getting out the car and watching him go. He was going to see him tomorrow, he didn’t know why he was so worried. Still, he didn’t leave the driveway until Saleh was out of sight and even then was reluctant to open the front door and go inside. 

Perhaps he was developing a new power that warned him when something odd was going to happen. He took his shoes off and made to hang up his key, only to find that Lyon’s was missing. Where was he at this time of night? It must be almost eleven if not later. He looked about for a note and saw only that Lyon’s trainers were missing. Where was he? What reason did he have to go out on his own like this? He entered the central hub to find all the books had been removed from the area. Not only that but Lyon’s chair was devoid of all but two plush dolls, who lay rather forlornly on their sides holding hands. Knoll picked them up, staring at their stitched faces wondering why Lyon had abandoned them. He didn’t know why he felt so sorry for toys but…he tucked one into each of his cardigan pockets  before going to bed.


	8. Blind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's decision time for our trouble sidekick. Yet is it too late? Has the Watcher truly been struck blind?

Knoll stood up with the beeping of the timer and took the chocolate muffins carefully from the oven. Hopefully their smell would lure Lyon out from his room. He’d checked the hallway as soon as he’d got up this morning. Lyon’s key and boots had both returned. Not only that, some shopping bags had appeared in the central hub. Was that where Lyon had been? Had he been to some sort of late night shopping event? He’d got up at nine am, so Lyon couldn’t have been to the shops this morning before he awoke, they wouldn’t be open yet.  Late night shopping events weren’t unusual, especially for the local boutiques selling ‘Magvel fashion’. Letting the muffins cool, Knoll went to investigate the bags Lyon had brought back with him. By the time he'd finished baking, only one remained near the door to their living area.

Acting upon the logic that if Lyon didn’t want him to see it, he wouldn’t have left it lying around, Knoll peered inside the bag. There was something golden inside, it glinted at him as he pulled back the handles and let the glow of the monitors illuminate the contents. They looked like skeletal hands, made out of, or at least covered in, gold. Knoll gently picked up one of the fingers and realised it was in fact a belt. If you wore this it would look like you were being held by two large bony hands. How macabre.  Well, Magvel’s more unique fashion boutiques were all about the macabre. Knoll frowned and let the bag be. Despite having the money for it, Lyon never really bothered with designer clothing. Therefore this purchase was a little odd. However Knoll wasn’t going to judge him for his clothing choices even if he did have reason to doubt everything else.  Well here was a conversation opener anyway. He picked up the bag and carefully trod towards Lyon’s hidey-hole.

There was a strange smell in the air as he stood outside Lyon’s bedroom. It was nothing he could recognise as magical; it was more like hair dye than anything else. He didn’t think Lyon would dye his hair. As Knoll approached Lyon’s door he heard a whirring.

“Lyon,” he called, knocking upon the door, “Lyon, you left a bag in the hub.”

The whirring stopped.

“Could you please leave it outside the door?” came Lyon’s voice, “I’ll get it when I’m done.”

“What are you doing?” Knoll asked. He didn’t expect an answer but it worth a try.

“Shaving my legs,” came the overly simply reply. Knoll inwardly scolded himself. Had his trust been so ruined that he thought everything Lyon did was suspicious?

“Alright... I’ve just made some muffins, they’re fresh out of the oven so come and get some if you want.”

“Will do. Thank you.” The whirring began again showing that the conversation seemed to be over. Knoll frowned at the door and wondered if he should demand an explanation as to what had been going on recently. Lyon still sounded tetchy with him but he was at least being polite. Deciding he’d save his questions for when Lyon was lured out by muffins, he retreated to the central hub.

It only took an hour for Lyon to come out of hiding. He hadn’t dyed his hair and he didn’t particularly smell like hair dye either. So what had that scent been? A type of magic Knoll had never come in contact with before?  Whatever it was, Lyon came back from the kitchen with a muffin and sat down to eat it in his now-empty hanging chair. Without a word to Knoll he switched on the television to the Magvels’ Mightiest channel. There was a cartoon showing the fictional adventures for the Zoologist and her sidekick Candlelight. Knoll pitied the real duo; the cartoon was a complete mockery, light entertainment for families that didn’t care for the feelings of the real heroes at all.   Knoll went back to his tablet. He still had a few more questions of Lyon’s to answer and these ones didn’t seem too sinister.

At an advert break he took his chance.

“Were you out last night?” he asked as Lyon picked at muffin crumbs, “I didn’t see your key when I came in.”

“Yes I was,” Lyon replied, eyes fixed on an advert for takeaway pizza, “I had to pick up a few things.”

“I didn’t think the buses ran that late,” Knoll tried to sound casual and interested but he couldn’t help but wonder what ‘things’ Lyon had gone to get near midnight.

“They don’t,” Lyon stated, “So why is your hair plaited?”

On instinct, Knoll felt his hair. Whoops, he had completely forgotten to take out the plaits Myrrh had put there last night. He hastily began doing just that, wondering if there was paint in his hair too.

“A small girl plaited it at arts and crafts club,” he explained, “She seemed to be having fun.”

“I see.” Lyon’s remark sounded rather ominous. They fell silent once more as the cartoon returned. It was another twenty minutes until the next advert break and Lyon spoke again.

“Would you like to go on a tour with me this evening?”

“A tour?” Knoll asked. What did he mean by tour?

“I have made a list of few places in Magvel I’ve never been,” Lyon explained, “Rausten House, Frelian Rise Avenue, the Hacksaw and Hatchet hardware store, Carcino Park, not to forget I’ve always wanted to go on top of Grado’s Arch. There must be an excellent view from there at night”

Knoll took a moment to puzzle over these locations. Rausten House was a secondary school, and a boarding one at that. He’d probably have gone there if it wasn’t for his adoption. It was also rumoured to contain the secret base of the Sisters of Latona, a religious superhero group. He was fairly sure Frelian Rise Avenue led to Frelian Boulevard, which is where Lord Hayden, an old business partner of Lord Vigarde’s lived.  He’s never heard of the hardware store however he did know Carcino Park was next to the leisure centre and had a series of artificial ponds in it that contained koi. He had once walked through that on the way back from getting lunch.  He didn’t know you could get on top of Grado’s Arch, it didn’t sound particularly safe. Also there was the matter of, well, how to delicately put it…

“I would very much like to go on this tour with you,” he managed, “However…I promised a friend of mine, my tutor from university who I mentioned before, that I would go eat out with him this evening.”

“I see.” Once again, his words were rather ominous.  Knoll didn't let this dissuade him, he still had questions.

“How are you…? I mean, why are you going to a boarding school at night?” he asked. That seemed like the most pressing matter to address first.

“Well you don’t need to worry about the hows and whys if you’re not even coming,” Lyon said getting to his feet and crossing the hub, back towards the direction of his room.

“I suppose I’ll just have to murder my way round the district all by myself,” he sighed.

He turned to look at Knoll’s shocked expression.

“I’m joking, Knoll. That was a joke.” He laughed and hurried off through the doorway. Knoll could hear his chuckling until his bedroom door slammed shut behind him.  Knoll sat frozen in his wake. That was a joke, right? Even if Lyon was evil, he wouldn’t just tell Knoll he was going to go out murdering people. He knew Knoll was moral and would do something about that. Lyon was power-hungry but he wouldn’t murder anyone... He coped with death terribly; he wouldn’t actively try to cause it!  Yet Knoll could not calm his frantically beating heart. He felt as he’d been rendered temporarily paralysed by Lyon’s words and his heart was working extra hard, as if sorting his thoughts was as strenuous as going for a run.  He slowly leaned against the side of his chair. Lyon’s laughter had been so eerie, he didn’t like it. There was happy and then there was…that. Where had he gone last night? He reached for his mobile and was about to ring Saleh when he decided, no, he was going to see Saleh later. He didn’t want to disturb him more than necessary…

He went and shut himself in his own room and decided to tidy up. He found the Sol and Luna plushies still sitting in his cardigan pockets, hanging on the back of the door.  Lyon hadn’t missed them at all it seemed.  He picked them up and inspected them, trying to see if there was a tear or whether they were dirty. Nothing, there was nothing wrong with them. Lyon simply had forgotten about them. They’d probably been taken for granted amidst all his other toys. He carefully wrapped them in the cardigan before placing the cardigan in a sports bag.  He had added another cardigan, two pairs of jeans and a long sleeved t-shirt when he finally realised what he was doing. He had felt the sudden and inexplicable urge to pack. He frowned and sat on his bed, staring at the open bag.

He wanted out.

It was undeniable. This wasn’t what his sixteen year old self had signed up for. He thought it had meant reminding Lyon to clean his teeth, make sure to celebrate his birthday, maybe even teaching him how to save lives. Nowhere in Lord Vigarde’s little agreement did he say he had to steal books, listen to casual jokes about murder, feel bad about spending time with someone who was only ever nice to him... He had asked himself before, where was the lovely boy he had grown up with? The boy who had grown into the man who loved writing and rabbits and going out for books and coffee? He could easily ask himself the same question though. Where was his sixteen year old self now? The one who thought his powers made him a hero and wanted to use them so no other child would lose their mother in an explosion again. The boy who made Lyon smile, taught him how to bake, paint and draw. Where was that quiet optimism? The passion he had approached his studies with, the eagerness he felt when going to university. The quiet awkwardness when he was around someone he liked… He could only think of one place, no one person, who reminded him of that joy. It wasn’t Lyon.

He lay despondent on his bed. Was he selfish for wanting something better, for wanting the old Lyon back? People changed, he knew that. Yet he cared for Lyon so much, maybe once he had even loved him. The man who joked about murder was not the person he wanted to protect.  Did he protect what Lyon had become or go by his moral standing and try to get out, or even try to stop him? He’d ignored his doubts before by thinking of Lyon’s happiness. However there was Lyon, perfect Lyon who loved his rabbit so much it had given him superpowers, and then there was this new person. He had acted upon that old Lyon’s wishes and dreams all this time… That Lyon didn’t even exist anymore. Something had changed Knoll's ward, twisted away his innocence. That didn’t mean he couldn’t still keep the dreams of the real Lyon alive. The old Lyon wouldn’t want him hurt. The old Lyon was a hero and wouldn’t stand for this horribleness.  If he couldn’t protect Lyon from what he’d become then… then maybe he could protect the ideals Lyon had always cherished!

Knoll almost fell off the bed as a flash of purple light coursed through his room before hitting the walls and passing through. He sat up, staring about, wondering what had possibly made that happen. He looked out the window, under his bed, under the rug, and in the wardrobe. It was a lilac light, he was sure of it. It was far too bright to be anything to do with his and Lyon’s dark energy or resurrection powers which were a dark purple or indigo respectively and smelt like decay. His room just smelt like fresh laundry as always. What had he done? Was he responsible for that? A bizarre determination had passed through him and then the light had happened. Was that a sign of…surely not? Maybe Lyon was just experimenting. He slumped back onto his bed again. He shouldn’t be so hasty to make assumptions. He needed to get back to his planning… if he could call it that.

He couldn’t just get up and leave. He didn’t have another home, he didn’t have any money. Yes there was Saleh’s sofa but he couldn’t just mooch off him. He’d been living on Lyon’s money all this time and he didn’t even know if Lord Vigarde had left anything for him…it seemed unlikely but he’d have to check.  He didn’t want to steal but Lyon had so much money from his inheritance and the sales of his fathers’ companies that Knoll could take enough to live comfortably without fuss for the rest of his life without him evem noticing. However he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He needed to get a job, though how was he supposed to do that? He had no experience, no skills to speak of, he didn’t even know how to apply for a job. Maybe Saleh could teach him but that meant putting more of a burden on Saleh.

He milled over his options and bank accounts for the rest of the day, doing a little more packing in the meanwhile. By the time the evening came, he had considered everything from asking for a job at the ice cream shop to begging Saleh to let him do his housework and cooking until he could find a place of his own to live. However this only reminded him that he was going out later whilst Lyon was on his not-murder tour of the district. He got off his bed about eight o clock, his stomach rumbling as he had eaten nothing but muffin batter that day. He stared at his wardrobe, wondering what Saleh would think if he turned up in a designer suit that Lord Vigarde had once bought him. He had said it was a formal affair but Saleh had seen him once come to university in his slippers by accident. Being formally dressed in front of Saleh would be odd.  However he had to make a good impression otherwise Saleh would think he couldn’t take Knoll anywhere serious. Knoll changed carefully before picking up his comb and a pair of scissors. He probably should’ve done this before changing into his best shirt… Also he should have asked Lyon for his hair straighteners but here went nothing. He wielded comb and scissors the best he could and by the time he was done, he had a rather tufty little ponytail rather than a very long one. He stared at it from the side and decided it would have to do. He used the hoover to get the hair off the floor and himself before looking at himself in the mirror. Maybe he didn’t need the ponytail after all. He undid it and combed his hair again.  

At five to nine he considered asking Lyon for his hair straighteners before pulling himself together. He grabbed his jacket and was just out the door when Saleh pulled up. This was the first time Knoll had ever seen him without his usual overcoat. Though his hair was just as messy as ever, the formal look somehow suited him… He certainly looked like someone who had earned the title ‘Doctor’. Knoll got into the car and glanced at Saleh who was quite obviously staring at him.

“Sorry if I look a mess,” he mumbled, “It’s been a hard day.”

“I don’t think you look messy,” Saleh replied, “I was merely noticing that you had cut your hair short. Myrrh will be rather disappointed but I understand. It looks smarter.”

“Thank you,” Knoll managed, not really sure what else to say. He fell silent as the car pulled away from the drive and sent them speeding through the night’s almost-empty roads. The district’s night life was focussed mostly about the district centre so as Saleh took a wider route, few cars followed in their wake or the led the way before them.  Knoll kept his gaze out the front, aware that this was the first time he and Saleh had been alone together in the car. Usually he had Myrrh staring at him from the back seat. To avoid having to say anything he kept his gaze on the horizon, which got steadily brighter as they approached the Tellius district.  The darkness over the Magvel district only made the neon lights in Tellius brighter. Knoll could see a pink and blue blur about a nearby television dish and knew the glow must be coming from the next district along. There was no neon lighting in Magvel, it was considered bad for the environment and rather ugly.

They took a winding road past Serafew Park, nearing the district border before pulling up outside a building fronted with a large garden. A trellis strung with twinkling fairy lights surrounded the walkway with flowers that sparkled from their illumination. Either side of the terrace,  people sat drinking and talking animatedly. There was a bar off to one side seemingly just for this little area. Saleh locked the car behind them as Knoll took in the building, which had probably once been a rather ornate house. Now it was humming with talk and what sounded like live music. Knoll tentatively followed Saleh up the flower-lined path and up to a revolving glass door.

It was indeed a very fancy place. Everyone here was dressed to the nines, even those drinking outside. Knoll was reminded vividly of dinners with Lord Vigarde once more but didn’t think this place would give him a giant ice cream sundae. His stomach rumbled to remind him he hadn’t eaten a proper meal today. A waiter led them over to a glass table in the corner, near a grand piano which was currently being played. The waiter insisted on putting napkins over their laps before departing with their drinks orders. Knoll wondered if the waiter thought it was odd that neither of them drank anything alcoholic. That couldn’t be too unusual surely? They both sat in an awkward silence and it wasn’t until the waiter came back with their drinks that Saleh spoke to Knoll once more.

“Perhaps I should get this over with first so we may then have an enjoyable evening,” he said, a hand disappearing into his jacket pocket. He pulled out a cloth bag, black with a silver drawstring, and from that what looked like a watch. Knoll stared at it. Why did Saleh have another watch, he was wearing one already?

“This is for you,” said Saleh, offering it to him, “Be careful with it. It takes a little getting your head around however I have ordered this because it is not a simple time piece.”

Knoll took it and stared at the clock face. It looked like a very normal watch, it had a matte black leather handle and a metallic clock with silver hands, a simple design and nothing extraordinary. This was a rather nice gift but Knoll was intrigued as to what made it not so simple.

“This is what I have been preparing over the last few days. They are designed for those under superhero protection,” Saleh continued. The music coming from the piano made sure that no one else overheard their conversation. Knoll wondered if he’d asked for this table in particular.

“It gives off a distress call?” Knoll suggested, glancing at Saleh then back at the watch. He couldn’t see how you’d activate an alarm with this.

“That and it is fitted with a tracking device which means I may try to find you with any internet enabled product. The way you activate it is to press the clock face to a solid surface and then lean upon it. You have to put your weight against it. That stops it going off if you just accidentally hit something with it.”

“I see,” so that was why he couldn’t see the mechanism, it was some kind of pressure system. This was all very high-tech for Saleh. No wonder it had taken him a few days to prepare for how it worked. On the other hand he evidently thought it would have to work. He thought Knoll would need a distress signal at some point.

“Do you think it would come to that?” he asked. Saleh did reply at once for the waiter returned with menus for them both. Once he had left, Saleh nodded into his menu.

“There is always a chance it could. We must always plan for the worst so the actuality seems a little better. I want to know that you have a way of being found if needs be and… I wish to know that I have done all I could to preserve your well-being.”

Knoll tried to pretend he wasn’t using his menu to hide his awkwardness but Saleh probably knew regardless.

“Thank you…for being so concerned about me.” That had come out wrong.

“I mean.. thank you for caring. I’m hoping there won’t be any need for concern but I really appreciate that you are able to worry for me. I don’t think anyone has done that before so this is really…nice.” He winced at his own failure to articulate something that should be so simple in theory. He didn’t seem to have made too bad a job out of it because Saleh was actually smiling slightly at him over his menu. To cover the silence that followed he carefully put the watch on his wrist, whilst contemplating the menu.

“I’m going to leave,” he mumbled as they stared at their menus.

“Leave?” Saleh inquired.

“I’m going to leave Lyon, well whatever Lyon has become,” Knoll elaborated, “I need to think about things like getting a job, having somewhere to live, whether I can afford anything… everything I own was bought with Lyon’s money and I’m not sure if we end up cut off… I haven’t actually ever made any money before.”

“Well as I said, you are perfectly welcome to come and stay in our spare room,” Saleh glanced over Knoll’s shoulder and Knoll turned to see the waiter was back. They probably had the most private spot in the restaurant  but they still had to be careful of what could be overheard.  They ordered their food and more drinks, the waiter seemingly none the wiser about what was going on in this corner. They hoped it would stay that way as they thanked him and he went off with their order.

“I would feel bad relying on you…I was thinking maybe I could help you around the house and cook or something, until I know what I’m supposed to do now.”

“That would be kind of you, though I would not insist,” Saleh took a sip of his drink, “To have your companionship would be enough of a pleasure. Myrrh also likes the idea of having you around. She will be disappointed that you’ve cut your hair short. I think she was intending to put beads in it.”

“I’ll apologise to her next time we meet.” Knoll managed a smile as the piano behind them picked up a faster tune.

“If we are apart at the time, call me when you are ready to leave that house. I can help you move your possessions with my car.”

Knoll nodded to show his gratitude.  He still didn’t like the idea very much but he knew what had to be done. If he wasn’t around Lyon then that was one pair of hands that couldn’t be put to work for evil purposes. With no helper for his research, Lyon would have to spend a bit longer on his plans, which meant less crime could be achieved over all. His absence was helpful, he was sure of it. Still, this was a bit of a leap into the unknown. He could barely remember living with, well without, his mother, he hadn’t been apart from Lyon in so long. Now he needed somewhere new to live, a job.. all the adult matters he’d avoided by being a sidekick. It was more than a little daunting.

“You should try applying to Magvels’ Mightiest,” Saleh suggested, “I have read that they employ heroes as consultants to try and predict the movements of other heroes.”

“I’m just a sidekick but that’s probably worth a try.”

They discussed potential careers until their meals came. Saleh managed to convince Knoll that, in a way, having a superpower must give him some benefit in the job market, especially if he went for a job at Magvels’ Mightiest. Such a large company must have a lot of jobs. Knoll didn’t like Magvels' Mightiest but if it was just a job then so be it. Also he might be in a good place to warn people about Lyon if he ever did something really dangerous. He expressed a wish that things could go back to how it had been whilst they were at university. This led them to a discussion of all the unusual happenings about the University of Magvel and how all the students were determined to find at least one superhero base on campus. Their reminiscing distracted them all the way through their meal.  It was much more fun to talk about student stunts than worry about the future. The food, when it arrived, was delicious. Best of all, they did sell ice cream sundaes. Admittedly they were fanciest ice cream sundaes Knoll had ever seen but Saleh didn’t seem to think he was too childish when he suggested they share a chocolate orange sundae complete with wafers and a pile of chocolates topping a veritable cream mountain. It wasn’t the sort of thing you ate without making a little bit of mess. Thankfully it just ended up on Knoll’s face and not his suit.

It was very cold outside by the time they departed, the outside bar had emptied whilst they were inside.  Knoll insisted all the way home that he was going to pay Saleh back and he shouldn’t have paid for all of it on his card. He had the money at the moment, he could have paid for that meal! He vowed to go to a cash machine as soon as possible, tomorrow in fact. Saleh needed to stop buying him things, where did he get all this money from anyway? On the way home Saleh told him about his home, perhaps as a distraction from Knoll’s financial indignation. He already knew Caer Pelyn was a village up in the mountains, and it took three hours to get from the bottom of the mountain to the city. What he didn’t know was that every time Saleh had contacted him before his return, he’d driven down the mountain to reach a café belonging to a ski complex at the bottom. Apparently it was the closest place with internet. The residents of Caer Pelyn now generated their own electricity but internet seemed to be one step too far for their traditions to stand. Saleh told him an odd story about trying to find black goats when he was younger. Black goats were seemingly the forested height’s most well-equipped wildlife. They were nimble and could hide in the darkness perfectly. According to Saleh it brought good luck if you managed to catch one. One day he could take Knoll to Caer Pelyn and maybe their superpowers would aid them in catching a goat. Knoll said that sounded like good practice as he got out the car.

“Good night I’ll…ring you when I’ve got things worked out?”

“Please do. Good night.”

Once again Knoll watched the car pull away, however this time he felt very aware of the heavy watch now strapped about his wrist. He was going to have to tell Lyon somehow. He couldn’t just vanish surely? If he did it person he didn’t think he’d be able to leave at all. Was it polite to do it by email, by phone call?  That seemed somewhat cowardly, he thought as he closed the front door behind him. Sure enough Lyon’s shoes and keys were missing. He hadn’t expected him to be there, with his ‘tour’ going on without Knoll’s presence. Knoll yawned and wandered down to the central hub, wondering if it would be a good idea to check the news before he went to bed.

He pushed open the door and suddenly stopped a few paces into the room. He’d gone in without thinking, expecting the monitors or at least the spot lighting on that side of the hub to be on. Regardless of whether someone was in there, the lights were always on. The lights were on a remote control so it was a bit hard to find it every time you came in in the dark. They simply left some of them on. So why was it dark now?

Knoll took a step forward, narrowly missing a stack of books that grazed his leg with their hard spines. Why had Lyon turned the lights off? Or, the more pressing matter, where on earth had the remote been last? He really couldn’t remember, it was probably by the computers but this room was a nightmare to negotiate in the dark. Yawning again, he took a tentative step forward. He was going to stub his toe at some point, this was all going to end in pain he just knew it.

He managed to get to the coffee table when the sound of books toppling made him jump. He felt about the for the fallen books but there were none about him… Had he knocked them earlier? Where was that remote? More books tumbled over, this time a little closer. He reckoned that was the stack next to the island shelf. He squinted in that direction. There wasn’t-

Something heavy struck him on the back of the head, there was a cascade of tumbling books and then silence.

 


	9. Fourth Edition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How fares our sidekick now? How lies his future now? All seems grim but someway, somehow, there must a last glint of hope upon the horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for suspected murder, mentions of needles and discussion of depression.

In order of what hurt most, first came Knoll’s right arm, closely followed by his head, his left knee and his left shoulder. In fact, now he was slowly coming into focus, his left side hurt a lot. However his right arm was certainly more painful than anything on the other side. He felt like he’d been stabbed there by a really small knife… or a needle. A needle made a lot more sense. Gosh, his head felt so fuzzy.  Everything was just soft and squishy, so comfy yet confusing. Or was it that what he was lying on that was soft and squishy? He tried to move his head and found there was something large on his face that made it difficult to breath. It smelt like…fabric softener? Pillow, definitely a pillow… he groaned and moved his head again. So he was on a bed, how did he get there? It did explain why everything felt so lovely and soft.  Hmm, he was used to early morning fogginess but it generally wasn’t like this. Besides, he didn’t remember going to bed at all. Where had he been before this?

He suddenly heard voices. They were indistinct but by the pitch, probably a male voice and a female one. He caught random words. They were talking about fish. How bizarre…no one he knew had pet fish. He quite liked watching fish but he hadn’t done that in ages. His hearing seemed to improve and he heard clinking and the voices got a bit louder. Maybe two male voices? The clink was cutlery, he was fairly sure. The lady said they didn’t need all that cutlery for fish and chips. Ah, they were having dinner, not keeping pet fish. Hmm…why was he in a place where other people were having dinner? They never had guests.  Suddenly it occurred to him that maybe he should open his eyes.

He was in a room with decorative wallpaper. Well that was the first thing he saw anyway. It was kind of pretty, with its cream flowers on a chocolate covered background. It reminded him of that chocolate sundae he’d had with Saleh… Saleh!  He remembered now!  Saleh had dropped him off after they had gone on a date… no, they had to dinner with each other as friends… and then he, Knoll, had come home. Everything had been really dark and… Knoll looked about. This wasn’t his room. This wasn’t his home! He tried to get out of bed but his legs didn’t seem to work, instead he rolled over the side of the bed and landed on the carpet with an almighty thud. The voices downstairs stopped at once. He then heard a familiar voice say:

“Knoll must have awoken, excuse me.”  That was Saleh’s voice!  Was he in Saleh’s house? Was he in Saleh’s bed? Why was he there? His head throbbed horribly. He remembered pain. Was that anything to do with the pain he felt now, lying on the floor? It was definitely painful. He could see the soft brown carpet beneath him. It felt very nice, must be quite expensive… well Saleh did have a very fancy house.

“Knoll,” he heard Saleh approached and his hands soon came into view as Saleh carefully turned him over.

“Knoll, I’m going to lift you back onto the bed, you’re going to have to help me a little. Can you feel your legs?”

Knoll concentrated very hard on his legs. Considering they hurt, they were definitely still there and he could feel them. He nodded.

“Alright, try and get up, I’ll support you.”

It was a tricky process but by the time he was sitting on the bed again, his legs were working. Saleh sat beside him and gently propped him against the headboard. His arms weren’t entirely cooperating yet and he tried to flex his fingers as Saleh got to the point at once.

“You were knocked out and then drugged,” he stated, “We’re not sure by whom, however they were either Lyon or working for Lyon.”

“Lyon was out,” Knoll cringed at the sound of his own voice. It was so raspy. Saleh shifted and picked up a glass of water from the bedside table, it had probably been left there for this exact purpose. Knoll tried to take it from him but he hadn’t really got his arms back yet. He looked apologetically at Saleh who merely pressed the glass against his lips and allowed him to sip the contents down. Feeling much better, Knoll tried again.

“Lyon wasn’t there,” he continued, “His key and shoes were gone.”

“Or he moved them to make you think he was out,” Saleh suggested gravely, “Anyway, we think you’ve been out for three days. You were placed in a metal recycling bin that must have been knocked over at some point. You would have fallen over with it and your weight activated your tracking device.”

“So you came and saved me,” Knoll finished. He could feel his elbow, which was a good sign.

“Yes,” Saleh nodded, “You’re now in my house, we’ve been waiting for you to wake up to know what happened.”

“We?” asked Knoll. Did Myrrh come and rescue him too? That was very kind of her; he would have to thank her when next they met.

“We,” Saleh repeated, “Are you feeling well enough for a trip downstairs? You should eat and I reckon you’d get better explanation down there.”

Knoll nodded and ever so slowly, turned to get off the bed. Saleh put an arm round his shoulders and they gently lifted him off the covers. Knoll took a step forward and thanked his knees for not buckling. Right, he could do this. He just had to make it downstairs… Saleh supported him out into the hall and eased him down step by step. His legs seemed to be gaining confidence for by the time he was at the bottom he managed to make a step into the nearest wall. His balance may not be there, but his legs were alright. Saleh hastily propped him up again and led him into the kitchen.

There Knoll’s knees really wanted to buckle, but not from weakness.

Sat at the kitchen table, spooning out portions of fish and chips, were none other than the Twin Heroes themselves. Knoll hadn’t seen them in casual clothes since they were schooled with Lyon, two or three years ago. Yet here they were, in jeans and jumpers, well a blouse and a cardigan in Eirika’s case, looking completely normal as they prepared their dinner. Myrrh was sitting between them. Knoll thought she looked oddly pleased with this bizarre set up. He glanced at her, then the twins, then Saleh… Were the drugs he had been given hallucinogenic? He blinked and the heroes were still there.

“You?” he gasped.

Eirika smiled at him whilst Ephraim finished serving fish and what looked like scampi onto plates. As soon as he was done, he straightened up.

“How are you feeling?”  Ephraim asked Knoll. Knoll continued to simply stare at them. What were they doing in Saleh’s house?

“A little surprised, I’m guessing,” Eirika filled in, turning to Saleh “Have you explained everything?”

“I thought we could do that together.” Saleh replied. He pushed Knoll’s shoulder a little and steered him into a chair in front of a laden plate. The smell of hot food was almost dizzying in its excellence. Knoll hadn’t realised how hungry it was until now. He picked up his fork and then realised everyone else hadn’t started. He slowly put his fork down but Saleh noticed his hesitance.

“Please eat. You haven’t had solid food for three days.”

“Yes, please do,” insisted Eirika, “Besides, it’ll get cold.”

Myrrh dug straight in as Knoll began to spear chips with his fork. He was still looking about like a startled rabbit who couldn’t work where his predator was coming from.

“We’ll start at the beginning,” said Saleh, who was contemplating his fish with inappropriate seriousness, “Myrrh had a nightmare this morning and woke me up at six am.”

“I think it was from the dark aura around your house,” Myrrh added, “It’s got so strong I can feel it from here. In my dream, all the lights in Magvel went out. Saleh was crying and I didn’t know why. There were superheroes there but… their costumes were torn and they were living in the Darkling Woods, homeless. It was so scary I woke up shaking…  I haven’t had a dream like that in a few hundred years.”

Knoll could tell he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t quite wrapped his head around Myrrh’s age. Eirika and Ephraim glanced at each other after she had spoken.

“I should have stated this earlier to you,” Saleh continued, “However Myrrh is our village’s…deity if you can believe that. She is the Great Dragon and her most powerful dreams are prophetic. Needless to say when she described it to me I was very alarmed. I couldn’t think off the top of my head as to why I would cry openly in public but then… I got very scared for your well-being.”

Eirika and Ephraim now had their gaze fixed on Knoll. Ephraim raised an eyebrow at him, and glanced at Saleh. Eirika leant over and whispered something in his ear.  Both Ephraim’s eyebrows disappeared into his fringe. Knoll decided to let Eirika fill him in, they evidently hadn’t known he and Saleh knew each other from university.

“I had received no phone calls from you and your alarm hadn’t gone off so I naively assumed you were alright,” Saleh continued, “I knew that Myrrh’s dreams could apply to tomorrow or an occasion not for twenty years so I suggested we calm ourselves for now. Natasha from Arts and Crafts club emailed me whilst we were fretting. She told me that Rausten Cathedral had a fair going on in their gardens and it would be a lovely afternoon out if we attended.  There were to be amusements, raffles, cakes, guest superheroes, and the usual affair.”

“Needless to say that was why we were there,” Ephraim chipped in, he didn’t sound very amused about it as he reached for the ketchup.

“Well,” Saleh elaborated, “It was pretty much as it was described. It set our minds at ease and we went round to each of the attractions, including the visit of the Twin Heroes. Myrrh wanted her rucksack signed so we joined the crowd waiting to see them…. Then your distress call went off.”

“We know what a victim distress call sounds like,” Eirika took over the explanation as Saleh started on his food, “Your watch is a brand the Sacred Soldiers use to protect the victims of villains we fight against. When you leaned on your watch, a shrill drone came from Saleh’s. We looked about for the source when suddenly a girl with dragon wings… Myrrh, landed in front of us.”

“She grabbed us both by the arms,” Ephraim continued, “And said ‘The Watcher needs your help. The Necromancer has turned evil and if you don’t do something, the Wiseman will weep for revenge upon you, Magvel will fall and all herokind will be left weeping in the knotted woods.’ That was quite frankly the most terrifying message we’ve received as heroes.”

“So they asked me where to go,” Myrrh finished, “And I told them to meet the Wiseman at his house and they did. We then used the computer, followed by Ephraim’s phone, to track you down to a recycling bin next to Serafew Park.”

“Somehow my superhero name is now the Wiseman,” Saleh commented.

“It was that in my dream,” Myrrh insisted. She turned to the twins and watched them over her knife and fork. It was clearly their go to tell the story once more.

“Well,” Ephraim managed, clearly finding Myrrh’s stare as disconcerting as Knoll did.

“We were rather shocked to find out a telekinetic had been living here for some time and no one knew about him,” Eirika said, “Telekinetics are regarded as the most dangerous heroes. However we had no time for explanations then. We got you out of the recycling container using a combination of brute force and telekinesis and laid you down, trying to revive you. That’s when we noticed something was really wrong.”

“Really wrong?” Knoll inquired, swallowing a mouthful of chips heavily before speaking. Takeout food had never tasted so heavenly.

“When we lay you out we noticed a blue-ish tinge to your lips and your eyes lids were fluttering,” Ephraim explained, it was the most serious tone Knoll had ever heard him use.

“The first could be cold, however the fluttering eye-lids is the only indication you can get that someone’s been overdosed with Ven-S Eight.”

“That’s superhero poison?” Knoll asked, he’d heard the name before but he knew little to nothing about it.

“Ven-S Eight,” Saleh filled in, “Is a powerful sleeping drug, so potent it’s considered a poison. It has the added side effect of stopping Lock-Unlock heroes using their powers. You’re a revelation type hero so that wasn’t the intended effect. However Ven-S Eight can keep a hero sleeping until they starve or even suffocate in a contained space. It’s a Class S illegal substance; apparently it killed dozens of heroes about ten-fifteen years ago.”

“So if you take anyone who might have been poisoned with it to a hospital, there is instant chaos,” Ephraim continued, “It becomes a district-wide scandal, the media go nuts…. We didn’t want to deal with that. So instead of taking you to a hospital, we called in a few favours from the Sisters of Latona. By the time we flew you to Rausten House, Patience and Virtue were ready with the antidote.”

“It turned out Natasha was Virtue, she recognised you,” Myrrh added. She picked up her food and without another word, went into the living room. No one objected to her leaving though the twins did stare at her as she departed.

“She’s the Great Dragon; she does as she likes,” Saleh informed them, “She likes watching the news about this time anyway. Besides, what’s more important is that we work out what has happened here.”

“I feel much better, thank you for your help,” Knoll replied, “However… I was knocked out as soon as I entered the…our living room. It was pitch dark; I can’t tell you anything that happened.”

“We took you back here on Saleh’s insistence,” Eirika seemed determined to finish the story, “You were out for a few hours but Virtue…Natasha said you must keep yourself moving and the antidote will take care of the rest.”

“Thank you,” Knoll managed, though it was a struggle to say anything complimentary to a Twin Hero.  However there more important things than personal grudges here. They needed to work out what Lyon was up to. He preferred not to dwell on the fact Lyon… this new Lyon had tried to kill him.

“I can’t believe Lyon would be able to get his hands on Ven-S Eight,” Ephraim evidently didn’t share his wish for change in subject, “Even if he didn’t administer it, it was done in his house. That’s a life sentence there even if he’s innocent.”

“He would have got it from one of his contacts, the people he wouldn’t tell me about,” Knoll directed his words purposefully at the hero, “And he’s far from innocent. The Lyon you aban…remember is gone. He’s turned into something new and horrible.”

“He can’t have changed that much.” Eirika seemed to trying to reason with him.

“He has,” Knoll stated, narrowing his eyes at her and her brother, “It wasn’t noticeable for the first few years since you stopped contacting him but… over the last few weeks he’s changed beyond recognition. He’s been vanishing at night, he’s been talking to people whilst I’ve been out the house and won’t tell me anything about it. He’s visited three other districts to learn about his powers and getting more power… He’s not the Lyon you left behind.”

He couldn’t keep the accusations out of his voice. If Ephraim and Eirika hadn’t abandoned Lyon as soon as they’d become famous, none of this would have happened!

“We didn’t plan to leave him behind,” Eirika spoke softly, apologetically. It seemed she had twigged as to why Knoll was being so tetchy with them.

“Yet you did,” Knoll reminded her, “And it changed him.”

“Is this really the time to discuss such things?” Ephraim asked, he glanced at Saleh who he seemed to take as a figure of authority.

“Shouldn’t we make a move to see what Lyon has been up to?”

Knoll too rounded on Saleh.

“This is the first time in years I’ve seen these two, I will limit my questions however this may be the only chance I ever get.”

Saleh nodded.

“I feel like Knoll is entitled to this,” he informed the twins, “As he has been the one to deal with Lyon’s depression these past years and you are partially responsible. I trust Knoll to keep his language moderate and not waste time.”

“Depression?” The twins spoke in unison. They didn’t seem very surprised about this, Knoll wondered if they did that a lot.

“He’s suffering from depression,” Knoll informed them, “He’s never been diagnosed with it but… he won’t eat unless you remind him to, he can’t sleep, he has lost a dangerous amount of weight and the doctor has told him he needs to put it back on… However he has been a lot better in the last few weeks. His plans have given him confidence, it’s just…. This confidence results in theft and he mentioned murder…  He is so desperate for power and recognition…your recognition, that he’s become open to anything. However when he found he enjoyed being evil, he ran with it because without you there was no other way for him to feel happy.”

“Why did you do something about this?” Ephraim demanded, his tone becoming fierce, “You’re his sidekick, and you should have done something.”

“I did!” Knoll couldn’t stop his tone rising, “I’ve been caring for Lyon longer than you’ve known him, I’ve done everything I could to keep him happy and healthy. I was the one who listened and comforted him after you stopped seeing him. He doesn’t care for what I say; his whole world focusses on you. Why did you start ignoring him? Why did you leave him alone like that? Could you not see how much he loved you both?”

Ephraim and Eirika looked rather uncomfortable. They glanced at each other, neither speaking. Saleh and Knoll merely waited for them to speak. Now, if any, was a time for an answer Knoll was long overdue. Why had Lyon been made to suffer like this for almost three years?

“In caring for Lyon,” Saleh said, his voice was soft in the silence that had descended over the kitchen, “Knoll has sacrificed his own health, his own life… I have him collapse in this house before. I returned to this city only a month ago, he was alone if not for Lyon before that time. I think you should provide him answers.”

The Twin Heroes looked like they had finally come up against a foe they could not hope to defeat. Ephraim took a deep breath and made to look like he would say something. However he opened his mouth and no words came out. Eirika put her hands on the table, clenched the table cloth and then said, in a tone that betrayed her reluctance.

“Magvel’s Mightiest.”

“Eirika!” hissed Ephraim.

“Magvels’ Mightiest?” Saleh questioned. Knoll wanted to say something along those lines too however he had said enough already.

“Three years ago we signed a contract with Magvels’ Mightiest… we essentially signed away our…our souls to them,” Eirika continued with difficulty, “They know our civilian identities, they know where we live. We have to keep changing our phone numbers and email addresses so they don’t listen in or hack our accounts.  Our lives are dictated by the whims of its managers…if we went against them we’d be shamed and killed off in their products, they’d make people laugh at us, and they’d destroy our lives with mockery and hatred. That’s what being a popular superhero means. You have to play along to Magvels’ Mightiest wishes or that’s it…you’re less than nothing.”

“And Lyon?” Saleh inquired.

“If we contacted him there was always a chance that Magvels’ Mightiest would find him,” Ephraim murmured into his hand, his elbow on the table, “He had powers before we did and when the police classed him as evil, we couldn’t lead Magvels’ Mightiest straight to him. They’d wreck him at best, arrest him at worse. We knew he just wanted to be a hero. It was better if we pretended we didn’t know him. It kept him safe from the likes of them.”

“It kind of made it worse,” Knoll replied softly. He understood now but it didn’t make their situation any better.

“You denied his existence on live television, you called him unimportant. Due to the fact you said that, everyone in Magvel thinks the Necromancer is unimportant, that Lyon is unimportant… even Lyon himself.”

“That’s the power of Magvels’ Mightiest,” Saleh reasoned, “Because it’s so popular it can influence everyone in the city.”

“Yeah,” Ephraim agreed, “We just wanted to protect him, let him find his way in peace but… We just wanted to do good. We wanted to be heroes, to save people… We didn’t want this commercial slavery. I just wanted to… what was that phrase I used to always say?”

“Kick bad guys’ asses and wear a cool cape,” Eirika chuckled, “Yes… no one warned us we were signing our lives away.”

“I see…” Saleh looked contemplatively at the table. An air of melancholy had fallen over the room. It seemed everyone’s lives had been rather hopeless, just with more fame and friends for Eirika and Ephraim and more tears and loneliness for Lyon and Knoll’s end of things. Knoll still didn’t think they had it as bad as he and Lyon, yet he was willing to accept their story. It was both their fault and Magvels’ Mightiest. They had been young and made very bad decisions… just like Lyon was doing now.

“I think-“ They never got to hear what Saleh thought because suddenly Myrrh shouted from the living room:

“Everyone! The news, you have to see this!”

They all hastened into the living room, Saleh propping up Knoll, who was still a little shaky despite having a hot meal inside him. There they were greeted by Myrrh, who was staring wide-eyed at the television. The news presenter was saying

**“...** _At the bottom the lake in Serafew Park. Twelve of the fourteen bodies have been identified though it believed one of the two unidentified bodies may be from another district. Police say they are in collaboration with heroes from the Jugdral district to identify the man, who had a Jugdral-brand leather wallet on his person.”_

The lady took a deep breath as a red banner scrolled across the top of the screen, flashing the words ‘BREAKING NEWS’

_“This just in, the police have been refusing to give away the identities of the deceased in Serafew Park. This is because, and I quote the official bulletin, “the victims are still very much alive.” The bodies recovered are certainly deceased however, according to the police, every identified person is still at their place of work or residence, very much alive. “It is as if one version is a doppelganger” say the police officials, “We will be running DNA checks on both the deceased and living versions of each victim to determine what has happened here.” We shall now go live to Neimi who is at the scene. Neimi what is going on?”_

The screen changed to a nervous pink haired woman standing outside Serafew Park. In the background they could see the park railings had been covered in police tape and surly looking guards had been stationed so none may enter and disturb the investigation.

“ _It’s all very confusing Selena,”_ Neimi announced, _“The police are firm in their decision that these victims are both dead and alive and…oh my gosh!”_

 _“Neimi?”_  came Selena called, not on screen, “ _Neimi what is it?”_

_“Sorry Selena but… three cars just pulled up outside the park with a police escort, they’re not allowed to be on camera but… oh my gosh! Lord Fado of the Renais estate just got out of the first car!”_

“Father?” Eirika gasped.

_“And...and Bishop Mansel of Rausten Cathedral? What are these important men doing here? They are not associated with law enforcement or the park itself, why are they here?”_

“I’m ringing Father,” Ephraim said, he pulled his mobile from his pocket. At once he had the device pressed the speaker option on the call menu so they could all hear.

“Father!” he called as his call was answered, “We heard your name on the news. What’s going on?”

_“All manner of absurdity. Apparently they’ve found my dead body in Serafew Park, but no need to worry, tell you sister I’m right here and perfectly fine.”_

“Your dead body?”

_“Bishop Mansel’s too, also Lady Ismaire’s, two of the chairmen of Magvels’ Mightiest, the head of MBC… really vital people who aren’t in anyway dead. Ismaire’s on her way…we have to see this with our own eyes.”_

“Err…good luck?”

_“Thanks, see you later Ephraim if you’re not out late. Remember to take care of your sister.”_

“I will. We should be back soon. Goodbye.”

Ephraim hung up and looked at the others. His incredulous look was easily understood by all. This was a truly bizarre incident, could you even call it a crime? It looked like something about a sci-fi film gone wrong. Like someone had tried to clone these people and hid the evidence when it had gone wrong. However the twin’s father was clearly fine, Knoll had heard him, and he didn’t sound like he had been kidnapped or cloned at all…

 _“This just in!”_ exclaimed the newswoman, _“DNA tests for the first victim has been analysed and the police say there is no different between that of the body and that of the living double. Police are baffled and beg for anyone with any idea of what could be happening here. Any heroes who know about duplicating should come to Serafew Park immediately. Such an odd crime has never before happened in the district of Magvel.”_

“This is certainly bizarre,” Saleh commented, “However, should we not focus on our own mystery whilst the law agencies handle this?”

“Yeah,” said Ephraim, turning away from the television, “I say we go to wherever Lyon’s base is and look around. Power-proof clothing would be great if you two have got any.”

“Mine’s at home,” Knoll mumbled. He looked at himself for a moment, suddenly struck by the question of what he was wearing. Someone had changed him into a clean grey t-shirt and a pair of slightly too-large black jeans. He looked at Saleh; they were too small for him surely. Where had these come from?

“Natasha gave them to you,” Saleh replied, understanding his confusion, “I don’t know where she got them.”

“I’ve got some masks in my handbag,” Eirika said, getting up, “Plain black ones, useful to have on you. I’d suggest a coat over the top, it’s cover but it’s probably chilly out there as well.”

“I’ve got a spare,” Saleh said as Eirika left their room to find her handbag.

By the time Eirika and Ephraim had put on their uniform and Saleh and Knoll had found Knoll some shoes, Myrrh had decided she didn’t want to go. Saleh asked her what she wanted to do and she said she would be fine on her own for a little while. Eirika handed out masks to the ununiformed men and they piled into Saleh’s car, under the pretence it was more subtle than flying for the Twin Heroes. The drive was a quick and awkward one in which Knoll wondered if Lyon had changed the house, or done anything to his possessions, in the three days that he’d been unconscious.  He didn’t think he’d bother but then again, he may want to repurpose his room or something if Lyon thought he was never coming back.  That was a depressing thought and one that Knoll swiftly moved on from.

When they pulled up on the drive, everything seemed normal. Knoll went up to the door before realising he didn’t have a key.

“Are we busting in?” asked Ephraim, hand upon his bracelet, meaning to unlock his powers. Knoll shook his head.

“There’s a spare key under the owl.” Before anyone could ask about this, he moved round to the side of building where a stone owl had been mounted on the brick wall for decoration. He lifted the garden ornament and with a soft plinking sound, a key fell onto the driveway. Picking that up, Knoll went to unlock the door. The others were staring at him but Knoll thought they should have bigger concerns than where they kept their spare key.

“We should be careful,” he said before opening the door, “Lyon will have set up the alarm systems…he might have even put new ones in place.”

“Good thinking,” Eirika replied.

Ever so slowly, Knoll opened the front door. The house’s hallway looked perfectly normal. Knoll noticed that his own house key had been hung on the hook and all the shoes usually clustered there were still present. Not only that, it was freshly dusted.

“Your base is just a house?” asked Ephraim.

“It’s under the house,” Knoll whispered. Ephraim nodded and they quietly closed the door behind them. They walked in single file down the hall, Knoll leading the way to a door under the stairs leading to the house’s next floor. Upon opening this, he showed them a set of stairs leading downwards before carefully treading into the darkness to a second door, just visible using the sunlight in the hallway. They didn’t have to worry about the dark anymore however. As Knoll opened the next door they were suddenly blinded by the piercing brightness of the following hallway. Knoll threw his arm over his eyes and he thought he heard Ephraim curse behind him. He peered over his arm as his eyes were watering. From the ceiling hung two figures, indistinguishable dark shapes against the brightness of the hallway. Peering through his fingers, Knoll fumbled for the dimmer switch on the wall using his other hand, only to find the plastic dial had been snapped off completely. He sighed and extended his free hand before him. With a twist of his wrist a wave of dark purple energy coated the hallways’ ceiling, dulling the lighting to an acceptable level akin to day light. The assembled group stood blinking the spots from their eyes for a moment before Saleh asked

“What are those?”

Knoll looked at the hanging figures. They seemed to be large patterned pillows, but he couldn’t make out their patterns from here. They were clearly hanging from nooses tied to the ceiling but…why had Lyon decided to hang some pillows? Ephraim pushed past Knoll and went down first, asking:

“What is that?”

Knoll followed, the corridor was wide enough for two people to walk together however it was Ephraim who got to the pillows first.

“Well…that’s my crotch.”

“Excuse me?”  Eirika asked, she caught up with Ephraim and gasped.

Knoll had been mistaken to believe they were patterned pillows. They had pictures on them. Life-sized, scantily clad pictures with…as Ephraim had put it… Ephraim’s crotch…and a lot more…. Knoll couldn’t bear to look at them anymore.

“My…My chest isn’t that big,” said Eirika.

“I’m sure our uniforms wouldn’t tear like that,” Ephraim added.

“I’ve never seen those before in my life!” Knoll tried to assure them in a slight panic, “I didn’t even know Lyon had them… they’re…” He moved his dark energy slightly so the ropes were severed and the body pillows fell forlornly to the floor. Now no one would never _ever_ need to see those again.  They could be forgotten about and…

“Well I suppose he is only soon out of adolescence,” commented Saleh, who didn’t seem particularly affected by the risqué soft furnishings.

“I’ve never seen them before!” Knoll protested again, attempting to keep his voice to a whisper, “I…Maybe it’s just a trap that Lyon planned to disconcert everyone with.”

“I actually think that’s what it is,” Saleh said, “The bright lights too. Lyon is trying to make us fearful before we even reach him. Perhaps not fearful…ill at ease may be more apt. The hanging is certainly a threat.”

“Well, if he’s threatening us,” Ephraim replied. He glanced at his sister. She stepped closer to him and before Knoll could understand what they were about to do, they cried in unison.

 “Solarbrace!”

“Lunabrace!”

There was a great flare of golden light and the twins disappeared from view. Knoll raised his arm to his forehead trying to see what was going on, however all he could do was listen to the twins as they chanted:

“We’re here to protect this wondrous realm!”

“To make peaceful streets the norm!”

“With a blaze to burn all villainy!”

“And to cleanse after the storm!

“Magvel’s Mightiest!”

“Celestial Protectors!”

“Champions of justice!”

Knoll looked round to see Saleh didn’t look particularly impressed. He was looking grimly at the ceiling and Knoll suddenly realised why. There was no way this noisy display was not going to set off every single security system in the building. Lyon would know they were coming and they had given him plenty of time to prepare.

“The Twin Heroes!

 Sol!”

“And Luna!”

The twins reappeared, panting heavily as they held their sparkling weapons aloft. Knoll stared at them. Saleh stared at them. The sprinklers went off and soon they were doused in cold water as a tinny sort of sound, like a whistling kettle went off somewhere in the distance. The twins lowered their weapons to the ground, far slower than their flashy display had been. The whistling grew louder and Knoll thought he could hear something like a repetitive thud coming from the central hub.

“I don’t mean to ruin the moment but now your magical trick is over and you have set every single alarm off, may we continue?” asked Saleh, sounding a little impatient.

“Yeah, let’s,” Ephraim managed, realising the two revelation heroes were thoroughly unimpressed.

As they got closer to the central hub the thudding noise became less like a thud and more like a voice. Knoll frowned as he ever so slowly opened the door to the central hub.

_“NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.”_

“What is that?” asked Eirika. Knoll took a step forward into the central hub. The lighting had been restored to normal, one half completely lit, the other completely dark.

“This looks rather cool,” Ephraim commented, however if he had anything else to say, it was drowned out by a sudden burst of deafening sound from the speakers built into every monitor.

_“NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO. NO.”_

Whilst the repeated denial was played, two very familiar faces appeared on the dozens of monitors, speaking in unison from what was evidently old interview clips. The dozens of faces, all belonging to the twins, stared straight at them as they chanted their refusal, eyes wide and as the clip repeated over and over they never blinked.  They stopped chanting after a few minutes and everything fell silent again.

“Agh!” Eirika cried, followed by a similar noise from Ephraim. Their voices seemed to set off the video again however Knoll ignored it as he turned to them.

“I think something just touched me,” Eirika said, looking about her feet in the darkness.

“Me too, on the ankle.” Ephraim said. The video was still playing in the background; it was likely to be voice activated.

“Intimidation tactics again,” Saleh said, “And it seems you have brushed your feet on a book…they’re everywhere.” He raised his hand into the air out from his coat pocket. In it he summoned a floating ball of flame which cast an orange glow upon the surrounding area. The stacks of books were indeed still everywhere.

“I think Lyon means this to drive home the fact of your denial to talk to him,” Knoll said as the NO NO NO continued, “He’s… definitely relying on intimidation tactics.”

“Hmm.” Saleh moved his hand about, “No sign of Lyon, perhaps he hidden away somewhere nearby?”

“Let’s try the living area,” Knoll said, “This way, follow me.” By the light of the staring faces he went over to the doorway that Lyon had once left a bag beside. Opening it, he went into the corridor that held their bedrooms, bathroom, laboratory and store room. He noticed that the bathroom door was open.

“Ugh,” said Eirika as they trod closer, “It reeks of hair dye.”

So that was where the smell had come from? It hadn’t last time… Knoll peeked inside the bathroom and saw it had been transformed. The floor space was entirely taken up with chairs whilst the sink was full of hair dye packets and boxes and the bath… the clean white porcelain was now covered in red, brown and strangely green stains. There was a lot of hair in the plughole and coloured handprints, far too big to be Lyon’s, on the shower curtain. It was like Lyon had been dying many people’s hair in here.

“What are these?” Saleh picked up a small plastic container. Eirika took them from him

“It’s a contact lenses box, the sort the lenses come in… look there’s a whole pile of them over there.” She pointed at the bathmat where a dozen of the boxes lay strewn.

“What is going on here?” asked Ephraim, “It’s like… a really shabby salon.”

“Disguises?” Knoll suggested, though he didn’t think Lyon knew that many people to need so many contact lenses.

“Well…he’s not in here,” Eirika concluded, “Shall we try the next door?”

She went and did so. The next door was Knoll’s room and it was completely as Knoll left it, neat, tidy and slightly smelling of laundry. Knoll was kind of relieved Lyon hadn’t repurposed it for something evil and he could still take his stuff away with him. However that moment of relief was certainly over when Ephraim went for Lyon’s door.

“Oh…err. Wow?” Knoll peeked under Ephraim’s’ arm.

Hundreds of faces stared at them, stitched, plastic, crocheted, hung, drawn, painted, cross-stitched, collaged, sculpted, happy, sad, angry, grimacing, lewd, crying and even life sized. Lyon’s entire merchandise collection covered his room from corner to corner, skirting board to ceiling. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of Sol and Lunas stared at them. Everything in there bore their faces…except one clean piece of paper that sat on a Sol’s lap. It exclaimed **MISSED ME?**

“Damn it,” sighed Ephraim, “He’s not here and… well…” He glanced at Knoll.

“You didn’t talk to him therefore he got obsessed with your media image, thus this,” Knoll explained. Ephraim shook his head however.

“I didn’t mean that… Yeah... I mean, what do we do now we’ve missed him?”

“I don’t think we have,” said Saleh, gently pushing Knoll aside to get a look at the sign, “You’re assuming that’s a statement saying you’ve come at the wrong time. What if it’s an emotional question? Lyon is asking whether you have missed him in your absence.”

“Besides, he wouldn’t have all these alarms up to disconcert us if he wasn’t here,” Eirika added, “He’s hiding here somewhere. There must be an easier way to work out where he is.”

“There is,” said Knoll, suddenly remembering, “The computers in the central hub are connected to every electrical device in the house. If he’s on a computer or phone, it’ll tell us where it is and therefore where he is. It’ll also show if anything has been on recently. Let’s go back to the hub and I’ll see if I can get to the records.”

“Good idea,” said Ephraim, “Lead the way.”

Knoll nodded as they headed back down the corridor. He couldn’t hear the NO NO NO anymore but that was probably because no one was speaking in there to set it off. He hoped Lyon hadn’t done anything too complex to the computers. He couldn’t hack at all. As they approached the entrance door, Saleh suddenly stopped them by walking to the front and throwing his arms out. He had extinguished his fire in the well-lit corridor.

“The lights in there have gone out,” he said, staring at the open door, “That half of the room was illuminated before.”

“He’s in there then,” Ephraim concluded, “Should we charge in?”

“Blindly into the dark?” inquired Knoll, not without an edge of disapproval, “No…let’s try talking with him in a non-threatening manner. No weapons or fire... Please…maybe if you talked with him?” He didn’t know how much good it would do; Lyon was already so far gone. Yet surely he still loved the Twin Heroes to distraction? Such a love could not die over one night or twenty nights… He stood back as the twins took the lead. Ephraim was gripping his Sun Lance tight and Eirika readied her Crescent Blade. Please let it not come to violence!

“Lyon!” Ephraim called, stepping into the central hub, “Lyon, where are you? We’re here to talk to you!”

“Yes, please come, let’s talk!” Eirika exclaimed.

Knoll followed them. The only light came from the slight glow of the Twin Heroes’ weapons but these did not illuminate enough to be useful. He stood behind the armed heroes as Saleh joined him.

“Lyon, they’re not here to hurt you,” he said gently, “They just want to talk.”

A giggle sounded from… somewhere. It echoed horribly leaving Knoll quite clueless to its source. It was followed by pure silence. No one dared move, no one dared speak. Lyon was in the room and he sounded quite deranged.

“You…want to talk… to me…” Lyon spoke with a deliberate slowness, as if trying to puzzle out the sentence. His voice however was dripping with sarcasm.

“The mighty Twin Heroes want to talk to me! Oh my Latona, it must be my birthday I’m sooo lucky!” He giggled again and Knoll felt a prickle of fear. He had never heard Lyon speak like that before.

“Lyon…” Ephraim growled, “You just tried to kill your sidekick with Ven-S Eight. We could have you locked away for life, but instead we just want to talk”

“Oh that’s what that was,” Lyon sighed, somewhere in the darkness, “I was curious.”

“You didn’t even know what that was?” Eirika exclaimed, “You just…injected the man who cares for you with unknown substance?”

“Don’t be foolish Luna,” Lyon gave another exaggerated sigh, “The Necromancer doesn’t do his own dirty work, don’t you remember... I never liked getting mud on my hands.”

“Lyon show yourself!” Ephraim demanded, gripping his spear tight as he pointed it into the darkness. There was a noticeable tremor to his tone; it seemed he too was being affected by the fearful echoes and his friend’s transformation. Knoll shivered, he couldn’t help it. This changed Lyon scared him, what had made a gentle boy into this had to be horrifying…

“Lyon, we’re your friends, talk to us about what you’re going through, we can help,” Eirika beseeched him, “We’ll drop our weapons and-“ She was interrupted.

“Friends!” giggled Lyon, high pitched and terrifying, “Oh really? You think after all these years I haven’t found someone better? A replacement for my appalling selfish so-called friends?”

“A replacement?” asked Ephraim. Knoll shared his confusion. What was Lyon talking about? There had never been a replacement for Ephraim and Eirika in his heart, never! He had loved them to the point of obsession, collected their faces like precious gems, sighed over them in his sleep…dressed up as them on Halloween… There were no others like Ephraim and Eirika, like Sol and Luna…

“Come out my dear friends!” Lyon cried, “Come out…show these… imposters how wondrous you are!”

There was silence. The little cluster of heroes seemed to all hold their breath as they heard a pair of footsteps, no, two pairs of footsteps echo round the pitch black hub. They grew closer, louder, ever so near… Two of them to replace two Twin Heroes. Yet who could replace Lyon’s beloveds? No one…surely… Knoll could not think of anyone in the world until, through the artificial night, two familiar voices cried:

“Solar Eclipse!”

“Lunar Eclipse!”


	10. Effigy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Necromancer and the Eclipse Twins, names so well known that they obscure the memory of our dear sidekick into the forgotten annuals of history. Yet these not-so humble villains started somewhere and here at the eye of the storm we see how the Ne'er do Wells part ways and not only a force for evil is left in their wake.

“You may call us The Eclipse Twins!”

There was a flash of silver light, just bright enough to illuminate two figures standing either side of the coffee table. The room was momentarily plunged back into darkness before the lights above flickered on, revealing the two figures in their entirety. Knoll could barely believe his eyes. It was enough of a shock to see one pair of Twin Heroes today. Yet now there were two? Well, two pairs so four, but still! Knoll had been right to think no one but the Twin Heroes could occupy Lyon’s heart but how…how had he found himself a replacement Ephraim and Eirika? How was that even possible? You couldn’t just duplicate someone… He was suddenly reminded of the news this morning. All those important people found dead yet still alive in Serafew Park.  He had been found in a recycling bin in Serafew Park and… hadn’t Lyon asked him to research how deep the lake was? His hands shook. Lyon had said he was joking, that he hadn’t gone on a tour of murdering people. Yet… somehow, here were doubles of Ephraim and Eirika, could he have made doubles of those important people as well?

Well they weren’t perfect copies.  The Eclipse Twins stared at their opposites, their eyes glinting gold in the artificial light. Their hair, which was jet black, made them look gaunt and pale as if they had been starved of sunlight all their lives. Perhaps they had, if Lyon had somehow made them and he had done it down here…there was no sunlight.  It was as if someone had taken a Sol and Luna colouring book (which existed, Knoll had seen them in a toy shop window) and simply coloured in bits wrong. They were identical in every other regard. Even their voices, which Knoll learnt as the not-Ephraim said:

“I always hated that silly chant… lucky Lyon understood and made it so we don’t have to have one. We didn’t want to make an embarrassment of ourselves.”

They stepped a little closer and Knoll realised that the not-twins were wearing slightly different uniforms. Instead of cropped t-shirts with puffed sleeves and gold necklines, they were wearing black shirts with short sleeves and waistcoats over the top in the Sol and Luna colours. These waistcoats matched their trousers which were equally as smart. They didn’t have capes and their reds and blues were slightly duller. Their superhero symbol, a silver crescent to the left on a black sun, was set upon a broach upon their ties. They somehow seemed a lot more formal and perhaps even…classier?

The real Ephraim and Eirika were completely taken aback. This was of course completely understandable, Knoll thought, as they had just encountered dark versions of themselves. It was like a comic book where the heroes were confronted with their own forms made evil… Should he call them Dark Ephraim and Dark Eirika? Knoll didn’t think it would be wise to ask…this didn’t seem like a situation to pick over the formalities. Dark Ephraim spun his Sun Lance about in his hand and stared at his alternate as if daring him to speak. Knoll heard Lyon laugh again and wasn’t quite sure how this would turn out. A fight between good and evil seemed increasingly unlikely with the inactivity of the Twin Heroes.

“Lyon…” Eirika managed, “Why…How? He even has Ephraim’s voice!” She pointed at Dark Ephraim as she spoke.

“That’s because he _is_ Ephraim,” Lyon replied, sounding gleeful, “Just as she is Eirika.  They’re you, however they’re better because they care about my well-being.  We’re actually friends.”

“We’re your friends!” Ephraim called out. He kept turning his head as if wondering what part of the darkness he should be addressing. Despite the lighting being switched on, Lyon was still nowhere in sight. Knoll had the distinct impression that the darkness enshrouding him was artificial, a product of Lyon’s magic. He was keeping to the shadows in a display of melodrama.

“Oh, my apologies then,” Lyon drawled, “I wasn’t aware it was common practice for friends to abandon one another as soon as they gained superpowers. Silly me, I should have known!”

“That isn’t what happened!” Eirika protested into the darkness. She turned her head as if trying to address Lyon, yet like the rest she had no idea where he was. Her attention snapped back to her doppelganger as she spoke.

“Well did you not stop to think that’s how it may have looked?” asked Dark-Eirika, placing one hand upon her hip and narrowing her eyes at her double,

“One day it was all ‘let’s book a bowling alley and go out for ice cream’, the next you’ve changed your email address, your phone number and you’ve moved out of your home into a secret base all in twenty four hours. A week later you’re Magvel’s Mightiest darlings… What was he supposed to think?”

“How do you know that?” Eirika demanded. Knoll watched silently as she stared in alarm at her opposite, her double…whatever she was.

“We haven’t stopped being you since the last time it was mentioned,” Dark Eirika sighed, “There’s nothing you know that we don’t, and we actually understand quite a bit more.”

“Once we’ve accepted there’s now four of us, this is going to go a hell of a lot quicker,” Dark Ephraim continued, “I think someone’s got some explaining to do, and if they don’t, we will.”

There was silence for a moment as everyone seemed to glance at everyone else. Though he wondered how Saleh was feeling right now, Knoll kept his eyes on the two sets of twins. The Twin Heroes were thoroughly stuck if what their doubles were saying was true. If they knew everything, and if the Twin Heroes didn’t want to explain, then their dark alternates would have the whole story ready to lay at Lyon’s feet. Their telling may not be completely unbiased either if they were allied with Lyon. Eirika and Ephraim had to explain themselves or this could get nasty. The Twin Heroes had a tight grip on their weapons, evidently steeling for a fight. However the other twins seem quite relaxed. They knew they had the upper hand and the room wasn’t exactly the best location for a fight.

“We’ll explain,” Eirika said, sounding a little breathless as she broke the silence, “If you explain why you’re…here at all. We’ll explain if Lyon tells us why he needed to...to make you in the first place!”

“Isn’t it obvious?” stated Dark Ephraim.

“No, it isn’t,” Ephraim replied, “So explain.”

“Then you’ve clearly understood nothing,” Lyon’s sarcasm had turned scathing, “You’ve learnt nothing ever since we first met. Pray tell me, what is so difficult to understand about someone wanting their only friends back in their life? What can’t you comprehend…that it hurts like hell when you get abandoned for fame and glory? Well let me tell you, it hurts so much that it would make the victim do everything in his power to get that friendship that…that love back in his life!”

Both of the Twin Heroes made to say something but Lyon interrupted them before they’d even begun.

“And please, oh mighty heroes… don’t say something obnoxious like ‘why didn’t you try talking to us about this’ or ‘why did you never get in contact’. Because I tried to so many times…. It was you who cut yourselves off from me.”

There was yet more silence. Knoll thought Lyon had truly backed the Twin Heroes into a corner, well, a metaphorical one. Yet the fact they had left him alone didn’t justify this miraculous duplication. It was slightly creepy in all honesty and the idea of making your own friends instead of going out and making different, healthier, ones was surely wrong on some sort of moral scale.  A sentiment the twins seemed to share, though perhaps for more personal reasons…

“Yet why clone us?” asked Ephraim, “That…if you feel so strongly about us then…they aren’t us!”

The Eclipse Twins scowled but Lyon replied before they could.

“They are as much you as you are,” he retorted, “However, if you’d been listening, you’d know that they’re better.” There was a pause; Knoll could imagine Lyon was steeling himself for something, perhaps taking a deep breath before a rant. Needless to say, what came next surprised him.

Lyon gave a sigh. He sounded wistful and forlorn.

“I suppose your stupidity was always somewhat endearing Ephraim…it did bring us closer, all those times we did our homework together and I let you copy me. You’ve given me a lot of time to think over these past three years. I’ve come to some pretty important revelations… and they helped me come to where I am now…well, they made sure I’ll never be alone again.”

“We don’t know what you mean,”  Eirika said. She sounded a little impatient now.

“Really?” asked her dark self, “We have been around for what…four days? Yet we understand, don’t we Ephraim?”

“Of course,” replied her twin, “I know I may be stupid when it comes to my own feelings but even I can see why we were brought here.”

“Why don’t one of you explain then!” Ephraim demanded, “So we can stop playing stupid games and get our friend back!”

“No one is crawling back to you, don’t you see that?” Lyon retorted, “I have new friends now… friends that don’t confuse me so. As I said before you lost your patience, I’ve come to some revelations over the years. Epiphanies, you may say… I realised, sitting alone and dwelling on the past, that I love both Ephraim and Eirika… but well… gods do I hate them too.” His tone turned dark which only grew more sinister with the glee of his creations as they said:

“Of course we are Ephraim and Eirika as much as you are,” Dark Eirika gave a smirk, “Yet we weren’t the ones who abandoned him… We’ve never done anything to wrong him. So now he can separate his feelings towards us into something...healthier.”

“Because we’ve never hurt him, he can give all his love to us,” Dark Ephraim added.

“And his hatred to you,” Dark Eirika finished, “Leaving him happier and able to play the game of heroes and villains. Perfect is it not?”

“See, they understand me,” Lyon confirmed. He gave a little giggle.

“Though, silly me, you don’t have to fully understand to care do you?”

Considering that they were the district’s best heroes, the Twin Heroes seemed to be uncharacteristically struggling under the pressure of this encounter. Perhaps because it was far too personal for them? Yet Knoll could remember them as teenagers and they were just as confident then as the heroes he had seen on the news more recently.  If they were the sun and moon like their hero names claimed, then they had always shone brightly, making Lyon feel as if he was the mere darkness in the night sky’s void. Yet here they were now, lost for words. Knoll pushed back the part of him that took joy in this for fear of being thought disgusting and focussed his attention on wherever Lyon might be. This new Lyon was at least happy but… the old Lyon would never have cloned Ephraim and Eirika…he was mostly sure of that.  He valued their friendship too highly to replace them and… he wouldn’t have duplicated those other people either.

“We do care about you,” Eirika protested. Her retort sounded piteous in the silence that proceeded Lyon’s question.

“Of course we do,” Ephraim continued, “Why do you think we kept our distance?  Why do you think we would _want_ to stop talking to you? We still think of you as our friend!”

“I don’t know because you never communicated with me,” Lyon said simply, as if he was stating the most obvious fact of life. Knoll secretly thought he had a point. How was he to know if the twins had never told him?

“Well, we’re here now!” Ephraim exclaimed, “We can’t change the past but we can explain what happened. We didn’t want to leave you alone but we had to draw the least amount of attention to you as possible, for your own safety!”

“Yes, if people knew we were connected you would be in terrible danger,” Eirika continued, “Magvels’ Mightiest has been trying to hack into our communications for years, if they managed to trace anything back to you… think of how much danger you would be in! We couldn’t put you through that!”

“So this is now my fault,” Lyon snapped, “Because you think I’m so weak and inconsequential that I couldn’t even hold off a little danger on my own.”

“Not that!” Ephraim retorted, “You’ve…had so many accidents that have killed people.  You’re wanted in five different countries where no one will believe you didn’t intend to take all those lives. If Magvels’ Mightiest got hold of your whereabouts, they could send heroes to kill you, or hand you over to the police. Or a villain who hates us could target you! Whatever happened, you could die!”

“That wouldn’t have stopped us meeting incognito outside of our homes,” noted Lyon, his tone accusatory, “You may think I would shatter like glass but I can handle a trip out for coffee.”

Whatever they said, Lyon was going to take it with its worst possible implications. Knoll knew the Twin Heroes were fighting an uphill battle. Every time they tried to persuade Lyon they were acting for his safety, Lyon would take it as a sign that the twins thought he was weak. Every time they said they tried to keep Magvels’ Mightiest away from him, he would think they were trying to hog the limelight. The old Lyon would have understood and be grateful for it, however this new Lyon was confident and ambitious. He saw the Twin Heroes as enemies and rivals and not those to expect kindness from, well not without a hidden slight anyway.

“It’s not that simple,” Eirika pleaded, “You…you would still be in danger. Magvels’ Mightiest knows our civilian names, they know where we live, what we do outside our work. Meeting up with us would put you on their radar straight away and you would once again be in danger.”

“We had to keep our distance,” Ephraim stated, “We had to keep you safe from them.”

There was silence as Lyon seemed to contemplate their explanation. Knoll could only assume what he was doing as the darkness filling the room completely obscured him from view. Carefully extending his own energies towards the ceiling he confirmed his suspicions, the darkness about Lyon, wherever Lyon was, consisted purely of his power. He drew his own energies back so Lyon could not detect his investigations.

“You missed something,” Dark Ephraim noted, “You know, the reason why Magvel’s Mightiest knows everything about you, the reason why you had to ditch Lyon to keep him safe. Do tell.”

The Twin Heroes seemed unable to say it. The silence grew so lengthy that Dark Ephraim held up his unoccupied hand and provided them with a countdown of five. When his thumb spelled the end of their time he stated:

“They sold themselves to Magvels’ Mightiest to jump to top of the game. They gave up on you Lyon so they could have all the fame and glory they wanted, delivered straight to the palms of their hands.”

“They didn’t stop to think of all the consequences before they signed themselves away,” Dark Eirika laughed, “It’s ironic isn’t it? You’ve both decided to play the game the same way yet look what happened to them!”

The Eclipse Twins chuckled into their hands as somewhere in the darkness Lyon echoed their mirth. Knoll frowned.  How was this ironic and what did they mean by the fact they had decided to play the game the same way? Had Lyon somehow bought fame and glory too? How had he done that? It must have something to do with his contacts, however Knoll couldn’t imagine that anyone from a different district would have the power to buy a reputation as large as the Twin Heroes’ in Magvel. No, Lyon must have sold himself to a force in Magvel, something or someone who could rival Magvels’ Mightiest…but who was there who could wield such power? Magvels’ Mightiest was the biggest agency for superheroes and had been for decades. No one could rival their influence, no one knew how to.

“Well this makes things much more delightful,” Lyon giggled from the shadows, “It will truly be a great game of heroes and villains.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Ephraim protested, “If you join us…maybe we could work something out. Maybe if we work together we can be friends again and keep you safe. We could even work out controlled ways to use your power without hurting anyone.”

“Too late!” Lyon taunted, “I said I will never come crawling back to you Twin Heroes.  I have power the like of which you could never have dreamt of three years ago. You’ve taught me that being empowered is one great game of good and evil where it doesn’t matter which side you take, as long as someone loves you. People will love me I assure you. I will prove to the district that our...my powers can be the most socially acceptable forces in Magvel, in fact they will be the most revered of all!”

Knoll made to move forwards, his single footstep disturbingly loud when no one else had moved from their position. He stepped back hastily, hating what had just overcome him. Yet that had been the old mission… to make their powers socially acceptable. That was what they had wanted, what the old Lyon had wanted all along! Could they blame him for reacting to that? He kept himself back however. This wasn’t the old Lyon. This was nothing like the old Lyon. This was something evil now. Something evil that he had just drawn the attention of.

“And to think, if Knoll had never handed me that little card for Blackstone Welfare Clinic, none of this would have happened!” For the first time since the conversation had begun, Lyon had acknowledged Knoll’s existence.

“Really, I must thank you… Your actions, most of all your gift of that card, they gave me the confidence and power to charge onwards. None of this would have happened if not for you. Perhaps if you hadn’t betrayed m-“

He was interrupted.  Not by the Twin Heroes who were staring at their doppelgangers, not even by Knoll who felt he couldn’t speak even if he tried.  At Lyon’s words he had felt as if he been plunged into an icy pool, the water so heavy and deep that every breath became a fight he was struggling to win. Yet as Lyon’s words turned and turned like the current that sought to drag him down, a voice that had not spoken so far in this little talk demanded its presence like a gust of fresh air.

“Haven’t you done enough damage already?”

Lyon rounded on the man who dared speak over him.

“I don’t even know who you are,” he said lightly, “Not that it matters, but why are you here?”

“You can call me the Wiseman,” Saleh replied, his tone severe yet oddly calm. He didn’t look at all intimidated by Lyon or his dark twins, or perhaps that was just the impression he wanted to give. Lyon seemed to be enjoying the effect he was having on them.

“That means nothing to me,” Lyon stated, “However you did speak up in defence of Knoll…and Knoll only has one friend, so that makes you his tutor, Saleh. So what do you think about this Saleh? In a way, anything I do from now on, under the guidance of my new contacts, is kind-of Knoll’s fault isn’t it? If it wasn’t for him-“

He couldn’t breathe. Lyon was going to turn Saleh against him! Not only that, Knoll stared aghast into the darkness, he would deserve it too. Lyon was right. This was his fault. If he had never given Lyon that business card he would never have turned from the sweet boy he knew into this…this evil… It was his fault the real Lyon was gone! All these murders, the duplication, the theft…whatever was to come now Lyon had gained the power he wanted… It was his fault! He had released this evil upon the city! There was a horrid clenching in Knoll’s chest. It wasn’t a drowning sensation anymore. It was like someone had gripped his heart in a vice.. His lungs had been replaced with metal pipes, or his chest felt as heavy and his breathing had become strained, panic not aiding him in his struggle. He tried to hide himself in his hood as he took deep breaths, each more frenzied than the last. 

He hadn’t even realised he was gripping at his coat until Saleh took his hand from the lapel and grasped it tightly. Knoll attempted to focus on that feeling as he heard Saleh say

“If you wish to know what I think, then listen. You are a manipulative child with psychopathic tendencies who has left the one who has devoted his life to caring for you unappreciated and damaged.  Giving a man a knife does not mean he’s going to stab someone with it. It’s that man’s own choice. Your quarrel is not with Knoll or I, leave him alone or the matter will be forced towards action.”

But if the man hadn’t been given a knife in the first place, he could never have considered using it to stab someone so…it was still Knoll’s fault! It was wonderful that Saleh believed it wasn’t so, but all evidence pointed to the contrary and- Four things suddenly happened in very short succession. 

Lyon exclaimed.

“I don’t think we need a wiseman.”

Dark Ephraim threw his version of the Sun Lance as if it were a spear.

Knoll, knowing who the spear’s target must be, panicked. This resulted in Knoll almost knocking himself over as a sudden force surged from his body, manifesting into a bizarre lavender shimmer. Before the lance could hit this new force-field however, it froze in mid-air. Saleh stood, one hand outstretched, his fingers only a centimetre or so from the edge of the purple bubble. Everyone stared at the black weapon which started slowly spinning on the spot; it did three revelations before stopping, its point facing into the darkness.

“Telekinesis,” gasped Dark Eirika, “And Suspension?”

“The Suspension is Knoll’s,” Lyon spat, “The Telekinesis is his boyfriend’s… Come, Ephraim, Eirika… We should leave. This isn’t a fight worth having.”

Knoll smelt warp magic before he saw the familiar flash of golden light. Dark Ephraim, Dark Eirika and seemingly Lyon too all vanished before they could do much as shout out a call to stay. As the smell dissipated, reminding the sidekick of those soft hands in that dark cupboard, something seemed to crack inside him. Lyon had always needed him to warp before…now he could do it all by himself. There would never be any use for him anymore…nothing… the old Lyon was truly and utterly gone…

“Knoll?” Saleh inquired as the force-field flickered and died. He turned to Knoll just as tears began to soak the borrowed mask.

“He’s gone,” Knoll choked, “He’s gone.  I gave him that card, that Blackstone card… If I hadn’t… He was right. This is my fault… I’m to blame for everything that’s going to happen!”

“No, you are not,” Saleh put his unoccupied hand into his trouser pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. He attempted to hand it over however Knoll was far too distracted by his ever-climbing guilt to take the cloth before him.

“Everything…the doubles in the park… the theft…even the attempt on my life… none of this would have happened if this wasn’t for me… Lyon would be fine…all those people wouldn’t be dead…”

“Lyon was just saying that to put you in a state where you couldn’t oppose him,” Saleh reasoned, still trying to get him to take the handkerchief, “You are the biggest threat to him because you know all his ways and habits. Also-“ He tried one more time to press the handkerchief into Knoll’s hand before hastily tucking it away. He hesitated for a moment as the now very sodden mask began to slip off Knoll’s face.

“If it wasn’t for me Lyon wouldn’t have-“ Knoll was abruptly silenced by an extraordinary turn of events. Saleh had stopped hesitating and put his arms about him. This was real; it wasn’t some kind of odd dream. Saleh was embracing him like he was a person who deserved such an affectionate gesture.  It didn’t make sense but… his breathing slowed ever so slightly… He was such an awful person yet he was in Saleh’s arms… he didn’t understand. He stood there, awkwardly pressed against his former tutor, for a few moments before putting his arms around Saleh. This didn’t make any sense but…he liked it.  He liked the fact Saleh thought he was someone worth embracing, worth being close to even though he had caused such evil.

He mumbled an apology for getting Saleh’s coat wet however couldn’t bring himself to let go. Even as the Twin Heroes seemed to come out of their reverie and turned to face them, he didn’t want to show the twins his tears.

“We need to tell the police what’s happened,” Eirika said gravely, “They need to come here and…and make sure Lyon can’t use this base again.” She glanced at Knoll.

“You might want to gather your things before they come here… You’re more than welcome to come and stay at our base for a bit, we’ve got plenty of spare rooms.”

Saleh’s embrace tightened a little.

“We’ve already made arrangements,” he informed the twins, “Knoll can stay with Myrrh and I. We’ve set up a spare room for him. It’ll be healthier to keep away from heroes and villains for a while.”

“Yeah, I suppose so,” Ephraim agreed, “Do you… want any help putting things in the car? It’s the least we can do.” The last part came out as something of a mumble.  Ephraim turned on his heel and vanished off back into the living area. He already knew which was Knoll’s room and seemed to be driven into action by the desperation of their circumstances. He had never been one for words, Knoll thought…just like he had never really been one for action at the end of the day.

He attempted to pull himself together, taking deep breaths. He had to take his belongings into the car, he had to help…thankfully he had already packed that bag.  Neither he nor Saleh seemed to be able to ask the Twin Heroes what they thought of their doubles, or this new Lyon. In fact none of them seemed able to approach the topic of what just happened.  It was as if a mutual understanding had descended upon them. Their lives would not be the same after this…even Saleh’s, despite the fact he had not grown up with the now-supervillain.

Knoll uselessly watched as all of his worldly possessions managed to fit into the back of Saleh’s car. He was still shaky though his breathing had calmed down a little. He wondered if the Ven-S Eight was still in his system…or perhaps this was what a breakdown felt like… The world was certainly crashing about his ankles even as the sleepy suburb looked like nothing had changed from where he stood on the driveway. As they loaded the last few hangers of clothes, Eirika took out a mobile phone. Her face set in a grim expression, she pressed the device to her ear. She didn’t have to wait long for a response.

“Seth,” she stated, “Seth. Raise the Necromancer’s rating from F to A. He’s got new powers, we don’t believe we’ve seen all of them. He has also created his own doubles of us….” She frowned.

“I don’t care what his rating was before, he needs to go up to an A. He is a threat to Magvel, he’s been contacting powerful sources around the city... he has full powered clones of Sol and I.”

Her tone became severe.

“We are fine, I don’t want to consult our father, raise the Necromancer’s rating to an A and get a squad here immediately. We’ve captured one of his bases and we need professionals here…. I’m passing you over to Sol!”

She thrust the phone at Ephraim and walked off towards the edge of the drive, her head in her hands.

“Seth,” Ephraim barked, “The Necromancer used Ven-S Eight on his sidekick, he’s cloned Luna and I to make two elite warrior sidekicks for himself, he’s been experimenting with dark power and visiting supervillains from other districts and learning their powers. He is dangerous. We need an investigative squad down here in hazard suits that can repel dark energy. We need you to take the Watcher off the police data base and we need to keep this all hush from Magvel’s Mightiest as long as possible. Got that, good.” He hung up and turned to Saleh who was attending to the shaky ex-sidekick beside him.

“You might want to head on out…we’ll pick up the pieces here.”

“Many thanks and good luck.”

Knoll almost tripped over his own feet in his eagerness to leave the house behind. He got into the passenger seat, and had his seat belt on ready to go before Saleh had even sat down.

“May I suggest resting when we get back?” Saleh asked as he started up the engines. They could hear police sirens as they pulled out of the driveway. Knoll couldn’t work out how far away they must be but of course they were drawing closer.

“Knoll?” Saleh inquired as they reached a main road and he still hadn’t responded. Saleh was forced to keep his eyes on the road however that didn’t mask his concern.

“Knoll, how are you feeling?” It was his worry that drove Knoll to find some kind of response, even if it wasn’t a very good one.

“I don’t know anymore.”

He just wanted to sleep for three more days, perhaps this was one big nightmare and he would wake up in Saleh’s room again on cloud-soft pillows. Knoll turned his head upon the seat and gazed at the uncaring skyscrapers that blotted out much of Magvel’s skyline. He thought dimly of Myrrh’s nightmare. Never had Magvel seemed so dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: We are approaching the final chapter(s) of the Ne'er do Wells. Expect pictures of the Twin Heroes, Eclipse Twins and the Necromancer: Fifth Edition to be appearing on tumblr soon! 
> 
> Also there will be two Magvels' Mightiest comic books covers to celebrate the finishing of this AU and well... Lyon's fashion choices alone will give a slight surprise.


End file.
